


Shadows Linger

by kafreses



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-08-22 03:30:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 160,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8270938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kafreses/pseuds/kafreses
Summary: Trust? An issue? Yeah, right. Nothing had really changed. Well, that is not exactly the truth. Yes, the troubles remained. Why should they not? Kurt carried them in his head? When he agreed, the teen had hoped he would wake in a shiny new place with fabulous clothes. He found himself woefully disappointed. Fifty thousand jabbering strangers all thrust into what could prove to be new beginnings and piles of the same old crap. Reality still sucked or so he believed. Trying to accept, Kurt learns something unexpected that will change not only his life—love.





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all. Started this and them pulled it down because I realized it would not work the way I originally envisioned it. Luckily I was not too deep into this making it easy to overhaul the start. 
> 
> I apologize to those who started reading before I pulled this down. I know you were following Loves Cycle . . . there is going to be a Part Two. The first bit is in the works as I post this. Stay tuned.

 

Shades of dark against light.

Light against dark.

They stretch and shrink and distort themselves.

Shadows are more than simple patterns of light and dark.

Shadows whirl in patterns with no rhyme or reason.

They live.

They breathe.

They move.

They die.

Shadows ping at the heart and then tear it down.

The dwell in the realm of memory and despair.

They are carried everywhere by the unknowing and are manipulated by the cunning.

They are manifestation within the ever changing universe.

Like all things they follow a pattern.

The heartbeat came as a shock. Brightness flashed like new stars and then another thump within its cage. Aspects of awareness darted all about like so many things caught on the wind. A muscle moved and liquid surged. The rhythm did not hold but then something sensed recognizable coherency. It matched the thing drumming within flesh. Words? One of the senses detected soft, pitches well above middle C. Words? They floated amongst the tiny points of light.

A voice? Pulses of warmth squirted out into unfamiliar tissues. A woman? Something sparked and for a second everything seemed so real. She held him. The scent of her hair and the smell of sweat. She held him. The warmth of her skin against his as arms wrapped protectively about a small body. She held him and then nothing. Despair and darkness turned it all upside down. The warmth she represented remained but the ache he felt understood the concept of more. Shocking pain and need. Shocking pain and lust. Shocking pain and shadow. Shadow and darkness. Darkness and dribbling light. Wind like sounds and then something swirling. The creaking of a tree followed by a mournful moan. The heart rose and fell within the ebbing of sound.

The illumination shimmering through to the back of their eyelids. An orb moved within the liquid surrounding. Something convulsed bringing discomfort. The heart beat stronger . . . thump . . . thump . . . thump.

Muscles reacted and eyelids twitched. A groggy mind sensed reality. Something pricked against the flesh covering the neck. Stimulating awareness pushed back the miasma. A single word flashed within memory—fiction. A second—reality. The third—together. Eyes moved beneath sealed lids. Something bright produced a red effect on the back of the lid.

Darkness fell like heavy drapes drawing across a stage. Eerie luminance pushed through dense fabric creating a series of rapidly firing glittering shards. A boy struggled to move his head. Muscles did not respond as he recalled they should. The stark authenticity of a breath pulled him away from logic.

Sharp pulses of realisation removed him from the overlapping ambiguity. The drugs and an awakening mind flushed it all into a huge blur. What the mind perceived seemed so real—the rain, wind and the smell of his breath. A deep breath drew in through the nose and then it all faded into light burning through the eyelids. The body tried to move but young muscles found themselves restrained in two ways—physical and narcotic.

Youth demanded freedom and the mind struggled. For a brief second a boy felt something with a hard substance holding him fast while part of him felt the fluidity of fingers pressed against flesh. Cool air rolled up the leg and across the face bringing a spark of lucidity. Tight fitting cloth coated him from his toes to his neck keeping him comfortable against the freshness of an increasing air flow. Blue light flashed just out of sight.

Drifting in and out of the odd state the blur faded. An ear twitched and then a finger pulsed. The effort seemed to drain all his strength. Forcing a reaction, a young mind pushed into the fog. Receding darkness gave way to thin embers of light. The thigh jerked and the mind sang out with victory.

Eyes suddenly popped open discovering unforgiving darkness. Madly blinking nothing came into focus. Fear gripped an uncertain mind and then the flickering in the corner of his eye directed him to a blurry source of brightness. For a second he thought of lightning dancing from cloud to cloud but the mind connected with something more elementary—the alphabet.

Hazy eyes endeavoured to see the things steamed within the source of illumination. With great effort his eyes rolled that way and then the as point of sudden blueness forced his eye lids shut. Stars flickered on the back of the skin like flashes of snapping of cameras. The fog of a disjoined mind saw two men in black standing on a red carpet. Right hand pressed into the left, their smiles faded away as shadow returned. Hazel looked into blue.

A sudden puff of cold air rolled up the body and over the face. Eye burst open and the orbs rolled up toward the only source of lustre. Awareness brought fickle understanding.

. . . Activity Detected . . . Cycle ending prematurely . . .

A small yellow light flashed beneath blue. To the right three green dots appeared and then vanished.

. . . Scan commencing . . .

A bewildered mind called out but no one heard. Yet, the heart pinged as if someone had responded. How? It felt odd and distant. For a moment he soared and the mind tickled in a funny way.

Only blue words remained. Wanting to shake his head, young muscles did not respond. Frustration settled in.

. . . Brain activity hyperactive . . .

Something pressed against the skin below the ear with a sudden sharpness. The boy jerked away but something held him fast. Worried eyes darted here and there as the light from above played across a perfect face.

. . . Pacifier five applied . . .

An odd wave of calm raised into the head. The brain fought the sudden seduction. Shadows curled in about shattered thought. Emotion—wonderful, caring, loving— gripped the heart and then suddenly faded into grey haze of remorse.

. . . Brains activity high . . . Vital signs high . . . Pacifier six applied . . .

A different sensation passed through the mind and then down into the body. Eyes rolled and for a moment the boy drifted off. The swirls of shadows coiled about the brain only to part as if an eye blinked. The fragments of an emerging mind briefly saw hazel eyes specked with amber and green. The heart leapt within the chest and the drugs pulled the boy away.

Sometime later, a prick again and the muscles on the boy’s throat jumped. Eyes flunk open and then crashed shut. Pale blue brightness blinded for a moment. Blinking, he saw words.

. . . Stimulant nine applied . . .

The boy felt heat racing through his veins into his muscles. He felt suddenly alive and then a strange sensation of being numb took over.

. . . Reaction adequate . . . Vital signs variable . . . Brains activity normal. . .

The boy followed the words. Trying to move, the muscles sluggishly complied within their restraints. His eyebrows crumpled together.

. . . Vital signs normal . . . Motor functions low . . . Motor function test commencing . . .

Pulsating electric shocks throbbed up and down the body in a set pattern of one and off. Muscles shook.

. . . Muscle stimulation applied . . . Muscle stimulation set to level one . . . Sequence to level ten . . .

Closing his eyes the boy drew in a deep breath. Cold and fresh he felt it enter his lungs. It tasted salty. A tear rolled from his eye and down his cheek coming to rest at the corner of his lips. It felt as if something wiped it away and in his mind he saw hazel once more. The sight carried with it a sense of peace within the agony of a painfully twitching muscles.

. . . Muscles over stimulated . . . recalculating . . .

The intense throbbing in his muscles ceased. Relieved, the tongue moved against the back of his teeth. They felt as if something coated them. A shiver ran up his back.

. . . Muscle stimulation recalibrated . . . Muscle stimulation set to level four . . . and maintain . . .

Tendons and muscles jiggled and pulsed in easy stages. A sigh escaped a surprisingly moist throat.

. . . All body functions normal . . . Calculated time to full rejuvenation eleven hours thirty four minutes . . .

Aggravation gripped him. He wanted out of whatever held him.

. . . Food supplement applied . . . Reaction normal . . . Vital signs normal . . .

A sigh escaped the boy’s mouth causing him to blink. Sorrow touched the heart pulling at the obscurities of the moment. Tumbling over one another, dark mists refreshed the skin leaving pain into the center of the chest.

. . . Duration in hibernation one hundred and ninety seven years, two hundred and forty one days, sixteen hours and twelve minutes . . .

Tingled darted down the arms all the way to the tips of the fingers. The left index finger suddenly jolted and a boy let out a sorrowful gasp. Someone should have been there to hold it. Someone once kissed it.

. . . Vital sign normal . . .

He drew in a long breath.

. . . Subject age fourteen at time of hibernation . . . No sign of premature aging . . .

Confusion. This would end.

. . . Survival expectancy excellent . . .

Concern. It had to end.

. . . Subject’s name Kurt Hummel . . .

He remembered.


	2. Recovery

“I miss you.” The words pressed in upon sorrow like haunting ghosts.

Longing wrenched his heart each time the simple words repeated themselves. At first the phrase had been one of endearment but as time passed, the crashing ache opened the wound wider. Yet, something dwelt nearby. Soft hair brushed against sweaty skin. A familiar scent drifted on the air. Vague instances of clarity replied in low grunts and short, snappy words punctuated with great sobs. Somewhere within a weary mind, someone held him. Warmth pressed against his chest as tears soaked a shoulder. The roughness of an unshaven face brushed against his neck. He recalled the touch as if it had been yesterday. It felt so perfect and loving. Each little scratch spoke of safety. 

Rolling his eyes, Kurt felt lost. The heart bled with everything he considered. So much had happened and so much had been squandered. He missed the touch of someone he loved. How many times had he been there to hold his hand. Those fingers always drove Kurt’s misgivings away.

A single vibration under the ribs uttered a soft syllable . . . Guilt . . . It could have. It should have. The process unfolded with every growing thought. Responsibility misjudged, misplaced or forgotten within the darkness of the soul. Emotion knew this. The final and regrettable manifestation of flights of emotion and reality. Within guilt the monster dwelt. Shapeless and dark, it rallied against all reason and thought. 

“Where are you?” A high pitched male voice whispered. Trembling fingers racked down his face pausing just below his twitching lips. A finger tucked in between the teeth. 

There came a day Kurt lamented above all others. He stood there beside a silent loved one watching and dreading. Blue eyes stared through the blurred haze of salty water. The heart rested at the bottom of the stomach. So much needed to be said but the words would not come. How could any mind understand the finality of what he faced? Consuming sentiment ripped away at the last traces of a sane mind. Skilful embers of doubt, loathing and hatred worked their way into the deepest places. Safety lay out of reach and hiding became an impossibility. Every fibre of a frail existence quaked as if waiting for the final stroke of utter capitulation. He wished he had spoken and now his inner most thoughts would forever go unsaid. 

Kurt tried to push it all away but his ineptness stared him in the face every time he looked to the window. Emotionless blue eyes gazed back at a reflection backed by inky darkness. Odd shapes moved within the gloom. For a moment he thought is recognized one form shifting within the shadows and then it vanished. The heart plummeted bringing the choking sensation preceding the flow of tears. Drawing in a deep breath Kurt awkwardly fought on. 

His joints hurt as did other parts of his body. Kurt hated the sensation. It reminded him of exercise. He would rather have remained asleep. It had been safe even if dreams haunted him. They had warned them coming out of hibernation spawned weirdness. Kurt’s young, still recovering mind surmised it has been the reason for the hours of testing. He had to wonder what happened to those who lost it.

At least lying there had been warm. Here, in the long hall, a chill draft rolled down his neck reminding him of the new reality. Both palms pressed against reddened eyes. Bowing his head so that the back of his hand rested on his knees, Kurt let out a tiny sob. His shoulder quailed and then his chest heaved. Not moving his heart pounded against his ribs and then he heard something like music but not in the usual sense. More a vibration, it echoed through the black floor his shoes pressed down upon. 

The fourteen years old had to wonder if twenty year olds felt this way, let alone two hundred. If the words had not told him he would never have realized he had aged. He thought he looked good for an old fart but then he could not forget. To the orphan, twenty spoke of old age, but two hundred? Gracelessly hauling himself upright his hands waving furiously in front of him in an attempt to banish the thought. Aging terrified him but this, the hands continued to wave. No! 

Remembering, his head rolled down to the left and his hands stilled. A tear fell to the floor with a splat. He would never have that again. Forever lost, his life belonged to the system now. He wanted it all back. 

After a time, the boy let out a long sigh and wiped the tears from his eyes. What about everything he held dear? Would he ever be warm again? Could he wear his own cloths? The functional, uniform like clothes they gave him defied the individuality he strived to guard. He hated the drab brown jumpsuit at first sight. They forced him to give most of his personal things save one bag. What choice did he, did any of them have. They had become the property of the state. 

The beginning of a new life felt like so many lies. Why, fifty thousand children from the ages of thirteen to fifteen. Why, forty five thousand girls and five thousands boys? While Kurt may not be the best at basic mathematics he thought the imbalance to be excessive. It all seemed to be in a rush and then nothing. He barely remembered having the chance to collect his scattered thoughts as they hurried him from this room to the next. He did see a flash on the news here and there. Something big occurred somewhere. 

Kurt vaguely recalled his parents back then but now he had all the time in the world. Loneliness pushed the mind places he found uncomfortably familiar. His mother died just after he turned eight. His dad passed away in the middle of his eleventh year. With no other family members willing to take on the burden, the government placed the child in a McKinley Orphanage Farm outside the city of Lima in some place call Ohio. While the tax payer flipped the bills, the powerful corporations used the children as labour in factories and in the fields. 

As a child, Kurt knew a little of the world he had grown up in. His father worked fixing things and his mother dealt with dying people. They lived in a protected zone in one of the massive complexes made up of what looked like shipping containers stacked fifty to hundred tall. From the tiny window the boy could see the massive, gleaming towers of Winnipeg in the distant south. Fifteen million people lived there in cramped squalor of the working class city where survival meant working twelve hours shifts seven days a week. 

He longed for old things. As a child he had been taken places where he saw something called a piano and a violin. The sight of them mesmerized the seven year old. Even now he could recall the manner in which the instruments of an all but forgotten past pulled at his heart. He cried when he could not tinker with them. Perhaps that had been the reason his parent started to find those old things. Hard to come by, no one used them in modern times. 

Kurt did not like much of the modern stuff. He enjoyed music from a time prior to climate change ravaged the world. The new stuff consisted of nose and not rhythm. As he grew older and gained access computers he searched for old things. He learned of a place called Broadway where people sang live on stage. No one sang live anymore. Semi-intelligent computers produced all entertainment on a mass scale downloading directly to the implant every person had behind their right ear. His father claimed the corporations did it to brainwash the multitudes. 

Books, the antiques of a bygone time, became insolation for the walls of shanty towns. No one read by flipping paper any more. Plug a small crystal into the implant and the knowledge became part of you. Kurt loved the fact he had been read to as a child. He loved a good mystery and fashion. Kurt brought a dozen and a half magazines and books with him along with volumes of the old styled music. The treasure heirlooms rested in a security box in the base of the pod he now called home. 

Like all children Kurt had to attend school. Those who showed promise had a remote chance of being selected by the corporations, who controlled the world’s higher forms of education. While he did not understand the working of the world, the boy heard enough from his father. Burt grumbled about the controls and lower standards of living. The twenty fourth century did not dawned in a good way. Nineteen billion people toiled to make a living with increasingly fewer resources and a greatly retracted environment. The vast majority dwelt on the coast where huge, overcrowded corporate run cities dominated the landscape. Those who had higher educations, money and status live well in protected, spacious communities floating out at sea or in high mountains. For most conditions remained tolerable when compared to the political turmoil of the twenty third century. In modern times, the governments ruled at the grace of the corporations. Company power did not exist without opposition. Fringe groups operated from the shadows using terror and hacking as their favourite means of attack. 

Burt spent a lot of time travelling to the lunar stations or the dozen colonies on Mars. Due to his speciality he had privileges beyond his neighbours. Since the middle class virtually no longer existed, it added food to the table and a little nest egg in the bank for a rainy day. When his father died, Kurt inherited this small bundle. Unfortunately, having been raised on the wrong side of the street, taxes took most of it. It did allow the boy the opportunity to buy back his father’s wedding ring. The plan, steel band fit onto the boy’s thumb. 

The death of his father flipped Kurt’s world upside down but living in the farm turned out not to be all that bad. The thousands of kids at McKinley had plenty to eat and a reasonably good education. One of the old world religions ran the place for the government. While Kurt cared nothing for all that kneeling and praying, the order still believed in charity and good will. While it did not always ingratiate themselves to the corporations, others paid attention. The Foundation, an organization consisting of smaller, private corporations and non-profit groups often had a presence. While Kurt did not understand their goals, they journeyed to the overcrowded orphanages selected the best and brightest. 

Kurt had been so lucky. He had learned from his father and his ingenuity. Fixing things changed his life though he hated getting his hands dirty. Messy clothing drove him to distraction. As a child he looked out for his father who did not always sleep well or eat the best and maybe drank too much. Burt often commented it felt like Elizabeth still lived with them. Their four hundred square foot abode always looked tidy. The sheets got cleaned at least once a week. Kurt horded their water rations so that they could both bath regularly. The corporation forced payment for everything. Lights came on only when needed. Most people used old style solar flashlights bought on the black market because using electricity through the grid proved terribly expensive. Every drop of water had to be accounted for during frequent corporate audits. People even had payroll deductions for the air they breathed. Officially the government stated the billings helped pay for the cleaning up of an overly polluted world. Burt often commented it actually paid for corporate dwellings floating on the sea or in the pristine paradises in protected mountain reserves. 

At the age of twelve Kurt Hummel started to gain access to higher education. The powers that be herded him into the engineering field. At some point, Kurt caught the eye of a Foundation representative and then one day the monks transferred him. Days later he found himself with hundreds of other children of a similar age from all over the world. A few hour ago he woke up in a tube they had ushered him into. 

The skin prickled with an odd sensation of warmth. A shudder ran up Kurt’s back. His head slowly lowered and Kurt looked at both hands. Turning his them over, he stared at the palms and the bluish tinge. The eyebrows bunched up and a tear pushed out from his eye. Hovering against the bridge of his nose, Kurt’s heart soured. The silence of the halls creeped him out. Though he felt the air moving about him it made no sound. He heard nothing else by his own snuffles and the eerie way it echoed back at him. 

The liquid ran son the side of his nose. The fourteen year old tasted salt. Breathing in heavily, Kurt rolled his head left and down. He felt awful. Awaking to darkness and no sound, for hours his only companion remained blue words counting down and telling him he lived. Then came a rush of air and the lid rose. It felt like freedom and a doom all at once. With trepidation he had pulled himself from the pod. Legs cramped and he needed to use his arms to keep himself upright. For the longest time he just stood there waiting for the stiffness to fade. Bending his legs ever so soften the finally made his way to the metal staircase to the floor three levels below. From the heights dim lights gave the massive chamber a frightening look. Nothing moved.

Gazing at the hundreds of sleeping pods he recalled the confusion before his long sleep. Adults yelled at them as they rushed all the children into the massive, dimly lit chamber. Told to find their number, each pod had a small light over it identification. His matched numerals beneath the name embroidered in on the fabric covering his chest. Separated according to their number, Kurt had found himself with ninety nine other boys and nineteen hundred girls.

Meandering the long bay, Kurt saw rows of pods on four levels on either side of him. He stopped here and there to look at some of the pods hoping to see a face. The darkness of glossy blackness reflected his shadowy face. In time a glow beckoned and he found himself in a in a brightly lit corridor. Eyes blinking, he did not know how long it took for him to find his lonely vantage point. 

Another deep breath and the tear fell from his chin. Hitting the metal floor his heart stopped. Blue eyes stared at the small pool forming there. He wished someone would hug him to make him feel better. 

The head drooped further down to the chest and a sigh escaped young lips. Slowly his hands came up to his face. Pressing the balls of his palms into his eyes, he held them there. The body shook as a silent sob choked in his throat. Rocking slowly back and forth the isolation he felt slashed into his chest. Fingers dug into his eyebrows. His mom’s funeral, being told his father had died on some distant orbiting station and then . . . he could not think of that. 

For some reason the position comforted him. Perhaps the blood rushing to his head made him feel giddy or maybe he just could not move. Images of his of another life flashed within a numb mind. He played hide and seek under the blankets or walked down the street holding hands. So warm. So comforting. He missed that the most. 

“Hi there,” someone suddenly said.

Kurt could have peed himself. Jumping, the thumb of his right hand almost dug into his eye as he whirled about as his back straightened up. One hand came down to his chest where it pressed against a vibrating ribs. A few feet away stood a teenage girl of about the same age and wearing the same, boring brown outfit. Intense brown eyes bore down on him even thought her face revealed surprise. Thick, almost pouty lips filled out a square jaw. Coupled with her large nose, it gave her an oddly beautiful look. Long dark hair tumbled over her shoulders. 

Her eyes bulged as she involuntary stepped back. The colour drained from her face and then she suddenly blushed. Blinking, she pushed away the hair draping down over her eyes. “Oh, sorry, I did not mean to frighten you.”

Blinking, Kurt stared for a couple of long seconds catching his breath. Engrossed in his little world, he had not even heard her walking up toward him. Wiping his eyes he muttered. “Uhhh . . . no.”

The girl’s eyes fluttered.

Brown? Warmth spread through Kurt’s chest as his heart skipped a beat. Just as fast it faded away into disappointed. Just brown and not hazel. The boy shook his head. Must be the dreams. 

“You sure?” the girl asked. She gave him an odd, disturbed looked. 

Kurt raised a hand, “Yes . . . errr . . . It’s alright.”

Stepping closer, the girl smiled. “I thought . . . I . . . was the only one awake.”

“I’ve been up for a few hours now.” Kurt pulled his right shoulder back as he twisted his back. Something popped along the spine.

“I’m Rachel. Rachel Berry.” The girl offered her hand with a charming smile. 

The tone of her voice grated on Kurt. It held confidence and more than a little arrogance. Nonetheless, he had seen no other person for hours. Pressing the flesh came as a welcome relief. “Kurt Hummel.”

“Nice to meet you Kurt Hummel.”

“Likewise?”

Rachel shuffled her feet. “You seemed lost.”

Kurt froze. Panic took his heart yet he missed the feeling of another person close by. Spinning the ring on this thumb, he bashfully he replied, “Remembering.” 

“Oh?” She did not sound all that impressed. 

Kurt’s brows squished together. He looked back over her shoulder. The starkness of the long corridor could not be missed. The ceiling curved up over their heads providing space required for the artificial environment systems—air, heat and humidity. Lighting ran down the place where the bulkheads stuck out from the grey and white walls like straight veins. Red, blue, yellow, orange and green stripes ran down the center of the black floor. Large, evenly spaced windows vanished into the distance down the long corridor revealing a stunning spectacle of darkness speckled countless sparkling points of light. The inner wall went up straight from the floor to the curving ceiling while the out shell gently sloped up down toward some point below them. A carefully constructed set of layers protected the interior from the stark reality on the outside. The armoured first layer had been designed as a radiation barrier and to prevent small objects from penetrating the hull. Six inches in from that resided a second armoured wall. The third barrier acted as the last defense and environments layer. The transparent metal formed windows and a clean gel occupied the space between the stratums. When exposed to extreme cold the gelatin instantly solidify forming a seal. 

Frowning, the girl’s eyes spun to the left as he lips pulled together. “I don’t know if there is anything worth . . . remembering.”

“There’s lots to . . .” Kurt’s head bowed. He found himself choking on his tears. A finger absently rubbed the ring on his thumb.

Rachel grinned. “Should I go away?”

“No,” Kurt shook his head and then smiled a geeky sort of smile. While he did not know what to think of her, he welcomed her presence. 

“Can I sit?” Rachel’s tone had an edge of command to it.

Kurt shuffled along the bench set in center of the oval window nodding his head. Rachel sat with her legs together. Awkward silence ensued. Together they stared out into the darkness where the colours of space blazed. Great swaths of stars meshed with colourful gasses reached out as far as the eye could see. It amazed. 

Outside the window the long, this central section of The Arc, as it had been called, stretched for ten miles. On an angle those looking out the window could the jets at the end of the engine section. The large rear component held various systems needed to maintain maneuvering thrusters and internal power along with the hanger bay for three smaller and faster ships designed for orbital re-entering and lift off. Numerous, large oval tanks held together by a dense metal lattice stretched from engineering to the bridge to at the nose. Evenly spaced along its length solid round sections sprouted six spokes. Projecting out half a mile from the center, the middle of the globes rotated around the central axis of the ship in a motion meant to mirror the gravity of Earth. The end of each spoke held a flat, twenty two hundred foot long oval shaped module. Each module had wings and fins designed for atmospheric travel. In all twelves sets of spokes range down the length of the ship save the last mile and the first half mile. Inertia moved the massive vessel toward its destination.

A couple of hours before the waking process ended, the computer began the provide particulars of what a child would find. In the center of the top of the sleeping pod a large, view screen lit up providing a three dimensional tutorial. Each of the seventy two modules had been described in detail. Twenty five housed the children and the twenty five hundred adults of the crew. Two contained medical facilities and scientific laboratories. One housed a large entertainment and fitness facility. Twenty four contained the hydroponics areas that provided oxygen and an environment similar to what the children may have experienced on Earth—forest, running water and farms. Six dormant modules contained factories needed to produce cement, smelt and forge metals and provided the capability to make many of the items they would need at the other end. Twelve held supplies and one an assortment of heavy vehicles. The last one held absolutely nothing. A tube containing a tram connected each module in their line. A secondary tram ran down each spoke to the globe allowed people to transfer between module lines and the central core. 

“It’s beautiful.” Rachel broke the quiet. Her tone sound almost humble even though her dark eyes sparkled with mischief. “I enjoyed sitting in the observation lounge on the lunar bunker looking up at all this. It frightened me for the longest time.” 

Kurt frowned. “I wasn’t there long enough.”

“Oh?”

“They barely unloaded us before we got rush onto this thing. Less than a day.”

“I wonder why the hurry?”

Kurt shrugged and wiped under his eyes. 

Sympathetically, Rachel asked, “Where are you from?”

“The McKinley Farm outside Lima, Ohio.” Kurt’s voice sounded blank. He did not look at her. 

“Really!” Rachel’s voice rose with excitement and volume. “I never saw you.”

Surprise crossed Kurt’s face. The cloth covering his bony ass squished up as he suddenly turned. “Really? I never saw . . . nay . . . then there were thousands of kids there.”

Frowning Rachel glanced out at the stars as seen through the three layers of transparent metal and gel. “Did you work in the fields?”

“Sometimes, but I spent most of my time working on the vehicles.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, me? Why . . . oh?”

“I would . . . well I guess everyone can do that.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Kurt’s eyes formed slits as his face hardened.

Hands flaying in front of her, Rachel shook her head. “No . . . that didn’t came across as I wanted. You seem a little . . . emotional for that kind of work. ”

Letting out a long sigh, Kurt closed his eyes. Not again? In a hard tone Kurt inquired, “Are you one of the Betas?”

“God’s no,” Rachel seemed almost insulted. Her nostrils flared. Making a face she looked both ways down the hall and added, “They picked on me.”

“Me too.”

“Your voice?”

“Squelchy became a polite nickname. And then the way I look didn’t help.” After almost two hundred years of sleep Kurt would have hoped his body had change. No, it looked the same, pasty white, skinny self. He could not put on weight he would have liked but, then, his face made up for it. All his baby fat resided under his oily cheeks.

“Honker, here,” Rachel pointed at her nose. 

Kurt chuckled. “It’s not that bad?”

Rolling her eyes, Rachel shot back. “Neither his your squeaky voice.”

First the first time since waking Kurt found reason to really smile. 

Smirking, Rachel added, “I would sing when I was on kitchen duty or when I when found a moment of peace.”

“You sing?” Kurt’s eyes flashed brightly. 

“Of course I do. My fathers . . . “Rachel proudly stated before her voice faded away.

“You miss him?” Kurt rested a compassionate hand on her arm. He thought her choice of plural odd. 

A meek smile pressed Rachel’s lips. “You were remembering yours?”

Kurt nodded and twisted the ring on his thumb. 

Rachel placed a hand on his. “My dad died nine months ago.”

“What happened?”

“He got caught in the food riots in the Bronx.”

A shudder rocked Kurt’s body. “My father died in an accident. He was a mechanic.”

Nodding Rachel, asked, “When did you mom die?” 

“When I was a boy.”

“My other dad died when I was ten. Someone shot him on commuter train.”

Kurt looked puzzled and then his face changed. Emotion flashed through his eyes as his month pulled to one side. Life on the peripheral of the corporate world had an element of danger to it. Burt had been able to make a good life for himself and his family but many did not have that luxury. Outside of the protected areas, crime ran mostly unchecked. People got killed over a look or the jacket they wore. The corporations did not care unless the crime cut into their profits. Kurt had been old enough to understand the San Paolo Massacre. Thirty one thousand died and tens of thousands more had been wounded. Then the corporate controllers leveled the shanty town leaving one million homeless. It would not have made the news if not for other corporations complaining about production irregularities. 

Her head bend so that her long, silky hair touched Kurt’s right shoulder. The boy involuntarily drew in heavy breath. Not quite the smell of his mother, it however soothed. Then, it suddenly pulled away as Rachel turned about as if getting ready to depart. 

“What?” Kurt’s voice revealed true concern. He longed for that scent. 

Rachel looked embarrassed. “Nothing.”

“It has to be something?” 

“I have a big mouth. Should never have said a word.”

“Okay.”

“You learn not to trust.”

Kurt’s eyes closed. He had few people he could call acquaintance let alone friend. “That’s the truth.”

Silence and then Rachel said, “I think I . . . “

“God’s with this face,” Kurt paused. “Let’s hope there aren’t any of them on this thing.”

“I saw one of them on the moon.” Rachel’s face grew angry. 

Kurt’s lips curled up into a small snarl. “Who.”

Looking not too pleased. Rachel quietly responded, “Hasan.”

Let out the breath he held, Kurt looked relieved. The pounding in his chest settled down to a dull roar. Hasan had picked on him but not to the decree of others. Knowing one of them stalked the halls did not please. One that could be handled? 

Rachel tapped Kurt on the chest under his name. “I see we’re not that far apart.”

The breath escaping Kurt spoke of relief. The boy glanced down at upside down number. “Twenty one-four-twenty three.”

Bobbing her head back and forth Rachel patted her round breast. “Twenty one-four-fifty one.”

“Close.”

“Yes.”

“Are there others waking?”

“Yes. These halls will be filled with kids in a little while all wondering what is happening.”

“Have you seen any of the adult’s yet?”

“Nope.” 

“How many are there here from McKinley?”

“Perhaps a dozen. A few are alright.” 

“I was the only one in my group. I guess we should all stick together.”

Rachel blanched. “Not Karofsky?”

“Definitely not him!” Kurt replied. His mind flashed back to his torments. Mud puddles seemed to be the favourite, but then there had been the shoving into walls, tripping, spitting, and dunking in the water troughs animals drank out of. The occasion beating he endured seemed to be a side sport. 

Turning to face Kurt, Rachel suggested, “I’ll make you a deal?”

“Oh?” Kurt blinked. 

“Friends?” Rachel offered Kurt her hand.

The alabaster skinned boy regarded it for a moment. He did not know her but she seemed genuine enough. If Karofsky stalked the halls, he would need a friend. Taking the hand, he smiled, “Friends.”

A huge smile stretched Rachel’s wide mouth making it impossibly bigger. 

Kurt almost laughed and then he realized how frightened she had been through their exchange.


	3. Things Never Change

“Fairycakes!” A deep voice drilled into Kurt’s brain causing him to stumble.

No! A sudden flash of foul memories and the body stuck the hard floor followed by a boot scrapping into his thigh. Rolling over, Kurt stared up to find David Karofsky’s hard laughing eyes. Thin lips curled up with sadistic happiness pulling at the pork chop jowls hanging from his cubby, rectangular face. Clad in the same uniform as everyone else, it did not hide the anger seething within his chest. Once he kissed Kurt and then the hell got worse. 

The gaggle of kids moving this way and that, separated and pulled away. The fear reflected within Kurt’s eyes found a mirror in many faces. Some watched.

“Fairycakes? How precious?” Another teenager chuckled. A single band of jet black hair three inches thick rose from the back of his neck and over the top to the forehead. Three day old scruff occupied the right and the left down to the ears and the back of the neck. Dark eyes sparkled with mischief. 

“Leave him alone,” Rachel called out from the side. Standing there with her hand on her hips she stared at Karofsky. 

Swirling about, the bully thrust his hand into Rachel’s chest pushing her back. Stumbling back, her ankle twisted causing her body to rotate. Her fingers spread wide as her hand reached out for support. Crashing into something before she expected it, that someone righted her balance as his arms wrapped under hers. Nose and lips pressing into that person’s firm, masculine chest she slouched at the surprise. The teenager she crashed into took a single step back and then held fast. 

The goon with the bad hair laughed and made a rude gesture.

“You like Madam Bignose, Finn?” David laughed with quick glance at the fellow with the mohawk snickered. 

From where he lay Kurt stared up at his oppressor and beyond to where Rachel. Her hands had come up to the boy’s stomach pushing at the tall, somewhat handsome teenager holding her. Kurt yelled, “Rachel?”

Rachel’s eyes remained locked on Finn. His oval face held the remanence of his baby fat. From the manner in which he stood he had an athletic build. The stern look on his face froze him in place. Relaxing his hold as the shock wore off his face softened into awe. His jaw fell ever so slightly as puppy dog eyes pressed down as her. He blinked and then his eyes went to Karofsky. Suddenly, he pushed her away to the right and slightly behind. The girl squealed as she spun away. From where Kurt sat, it looked as if he did that on purpose. 

Karofsky laughed at Finn and then glared at Kurt with a dark snarl. A fat finger is thrust toward the boy on the floor. “You found the balls to become a muff packer, faggot?” 

Some of the onlookers laughed. Kurt’s lips drew in and he looked around. The fear he already felt spiked as his eyes darted about. He knew none of them and at this moment did not want to. The tightness in his chest returned and his hands began to tremble. Those dark thoughts he once experienced returned. Bring an end to it all. Squeezing his eyes shut a flash of hazel speckled with green interrupted his thoughts. He blinked and he looked to Rachel. The tension faded. 

“Make him kiss those sucker lips. We will see if he sticks.” The teenager with the mohawk joyfully suggested. He stepped menacing closer to Kurt while making obscene gestures. 

Angry Rachel awkwardly turned and moved to aid her new friend but Finn’s arm came up blocking her. Her eyes went up to his. They held for a moment and then she glanced away. 

Recoiling, Kurt’s stomach turned. Other than his parents and that messy attempt by Karofsky, he had never been kissed. He knew from watching his parents it promoted openness and trust. Why should he trust? Ever since this dad’s death he has been passed about like a used rag. 

The tyrant stomped his feet and chuckled. Staring, Karofsky glanced back over his shoulder to his companion with the mohawk. “No cow troughs. Puckerman, I guess we turn him upside down in the toilet.” 

Bopping his head back and forth Puckerman kicked at Kurt’s foot, which got pulled back. Laughing, the stooge stooped down to grab Kurt’s boot. Suddenly the aggressor found himself stumbling away because someone had violently pushed him. Toppling to his knees, he growled as he spun around pulling himself to his feet. The scowl on his face fell away as his eyes went wide. 

“When you’re finished trying to mop the floor with that broom hair, you can shine my boots, brush head.” An adult female pointed a finger at Puckerman. Slightly over six feet tall, she glared with hard, dangerous eyes. Square jaw set, her dark blue eyes flushed with authority. Straight, shoulder length hair parted on one side a fell to her neck. Wearing the blue uniform of an officer, two men, also in blue, backed her up. 

Fluffing himself up like a prized rooster Puckerman held his ground. 

Pushing finger into Puckerman’s chest, one of the officer’s eyebrows went up. The left cheek rose with a cocky one sided smile. “Try it and you will find out what a dozen years of military training feels like against you boney ass.”

Puckerman pulled stepped back. Karofsky gave him an unsettling look. 

“And you, tubby,” The officer barked at Karofsky. “The next time you feel it’s a good time to piss all over my parade, remember that toilet can be cleaned with your tongue.” 

The bully stepped back.

Kurt’s chuckle fell short when her attention turned his way. 

“You there, flufferboy, just don’t lie there, get out of my way.” The officer grumbled as he started to move on. Glancing back, she said to one of the men behind her. “Sub-lieutenant Schuester, get his pathetic rabble straightened up. Assembling in twenty.” 

“Yes, Lieutenant Sylvester,” the lean, curly haired man replied. He watched the lieutenant and the ensign who has been standing next to him push through the throng of onlookers. 

Rolling his eyes, the six foot tall sub-lieutenant looked to Karofsky, Puckerman and then Finn. “Well, get up to the assembly hall. Time for you to start your new lives.”

Karofsky glanced at Puckerman and finally Finn. The teenager with the mohawk let out a hard breath, spat at Kurt and then turned away. The ring leader lingered for a moment glaring at Finn. The baby faced jock looked apologetic and then his eyes flashed to Rachel. Finn hesitantly stepped away and Karofsky punched him in the arm. The jock whined. David glared at Kurt.

“Get going,” Schuester demanded.

Making a face, Karofsky turned into the crowd of onlookers. They part like the Red Sea before him. 

The moment the bullies turned away Rachel rushed to Kurt where he lay. Before she could reach him, the curly haired officer leaned forward offering Kurt a hand. Regarding it for a moment and looked at the officer’s face. The man’s jaw curved down to a point at the chin and his checks pulled his mouth making his face look thin. His eyes, however, had a softness to them Kurt instantly acknowledged giving him the nerve to hesitantly accepted the offer. With a relieved look on his early thirty something face Schuester tugged the boy to his feet. 

“Kurt?” Schuester’s noted the teenager’s identification before his head move to the left and down. “Are you hurt?”

The boy blinked. The man used his first name. The woman how had collected Kurt and Rachel from corridor had used only their formal names. Since his father’s death he had found adults uncompromising yet something about this man stirred hope. Certainly not his looks but his words had come out softly and with what Kurt recognized as compassion. Kurt welcomed the sub-lieutenant’s meekness.

The sub-lieutenant gave Kurt a concerned glance.

Kurt’s soft eyes rolled upward even as his hand rubbed against his soar thigh. Shaking his head, Kurt mouthed he would be fine. He fibbed. Kurt knew he would always be less than fine. Events, since waking, washed on the shores of his mind like so much drift wood. A few months before his mother’s death, the boy realized he sat on the other side of the fence from most of his sex. While the boys started to think of girls, Kurt liked watching the boys. Knowing what he wanted and acting on it became two different things. There had always been something missing. Something he quite did not understand. He felt it deep down in his stomach every time he saw someone holding hands. 

When the Foundation representatives scooped him up Kurt felt it would all be different. Then the sound of that piggish voice ruined any excitement he had felt. A hope for a new life lay spoiled within the creases of his stupid unit. He saw the disinterest on the onlookers faces. It proved life came down to three things—brutes, pray and meek sheep. Nothing changed. 

Sub-lieutenant Schuester said something to Rachel, Kurt did not hear. She grinned and he patted her shoulder. She seemed to appreciate it. The odd interaction surprised Kurt because he realized he may be able to find a friend in this place. His eyes suddenly darted about. None of them had lifted a finger. She had. His lips curling up ever so slightly. 

Suddenly Kurt’s expression changed. It hardened as his heart skipped a couple of beats. That stark female officer had cast a word at him he only now realized had a derogatory context. She had not really defend the bruised emotions of the boy crushed down onto the floor. Still, she called his attacker fat. Karofsky hated being called fat. If it had not been for the pain shooting through his hip, Kurt could have laughed out loud.

“Kurt?” Rachel stepped closer. Her eyes did not exactly fall on Kurt but rather looked into the off into the sea of heads moving about the tall chamber.

Nodding, Kurt watched the sub-lieutenant close the gap between the three of them. A young teenage heart rose in Kurt’s throat as his stomach gurgled. In contrast to his first opinion, Schuester looked unsympathetic and then his face revealed a sudden, disarming smile. The shadows of his eyes shifted revealing kindness. First impressions usually served Kurt well. This man seemed like a good apple. 

“You sure you’re alright? You landed hard,” the sub-lieutenant stated. He placed a hand on Kurt’s shoulder

“You get used to it,” Kurt muttered in a demure tone as he shied away. Not a falsehood, he wished he could have lied. He would have liked to have been one of the cool kids but if being cruelty existed as a prerequisite he wanted nothing to do with it. Being lost in his own little world provided safety . . . well marginally. 

Rachel snarled. Her face still looked flushed. Scanning the crowd she searched for someone. “We shouldn’t have to.”

“I take it you know him?” Schuester glanced down the path taken by the big bully and his cohorts. He pressed his extended hand protectively closer to the teenager standing close by. 

“Yes,” the two teenagers said more or less at the same time. 

Schuester shook his head. “We thought . . . Well, enough of that.”

“You thought?” Kurt shyly said as he ran his hands down the front of his pant legs. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. He could feel Karofsky sneering at him.

“They were supposed to have weeded that type out,” the sub-lieutenant said more to himself than actually responding. The happy-go-lucky features fell away into mute distraction. For a couple of seconds it looked as if he might say something and then he looked away. Wiggling his nose he said to the two teenagers. 

“Everyone to the assembly hall.” A hard, female voice bellowed over the speaker system. “Assembly in ten minutes.”

Sub-lieutenant Schuester pulled himself stiffly upright. The side of his lip fell with the voice. Letting out a sigh, he did not looked too thrilled. Glancing at Rachel and Kurt, he said, ““If he bothers you, tell me. Now, on with both of you. Off to the gathering of great minds.”

Turning to leave, Schuester worked his way along the row of pods toward the far end of long chamber. One thousand feet long and forty two tall, five rows stretched into the distance toward a thick bulkhead set with a series of large sliding doors. Starting at the end of the row, ten foot wide sections separated by a privacy wall divided the total length into one hundred. Each row had four levels giving the larger chamber a total of two thousand cubicles. On the ground level, when measured from the base of a sleeping pod to the opposite supporting wall, ran an avenue twenty five feet wide. On the levels above, metal walkways extended fifteen feet out from the edge of the pods over the alleyway on the main level. A long lighted bar ran along the length of each level beneath the floor plate above. Every fifty feet staircases spiraled down from the upper levels.

Their private worlds consisted of the ten cubic foot area housing a sleeping pod. The pod itself rose from the floor to a height of five feet. Set up against the divider to the next pod section it went ten feet back to the bulkhead. Taller on the partition side, the glassy black, top curved down to a height of two feet. The front portion slide back over back half which appeared the pod passed through a wall to the other side. The five by five foot landing at the side of the pod backed up against a five foot wide ten foot tall wall. A sliding door allowed entry into a five by five foot room containing a corner shower, sink, toilet and a ladder. The ladder allowed the occupant to reach the storage cupboards occupying the walls top three feet of the walls. Five feet up on the wall separating the washroom from the pod rested a short a sliding door. The five cubic foot area provided more storage and access to the water and sewage reclamation systems for the pod above. A screen wall separated the cubicle from the walkways. 

Placing at hand on Kurt’s shoulder, Rachel smiled at the boy. At that very moment someone brushed by Kurt throwing his body against him. The force pushed Kurt who stumbled. Rachel steadied him as her head turned. The tall, skinny teenager with bright red hair and a ruddy complexion sneered at both of them. He growled at Kurt, “Pissboy.”

His heart dropping in to his stomach, Kurt drew in a heavy sight. Rachel patted his shoulder and urged Kurt to move. He did not move. Those about them steered clear as Kurt and Rachel gazed at one another. 

Off to the right a blond boy caught Kurt’s attention. Kind of cute, he had the largest, pouty lips Kurt had ever seen. Green eyes flashed in the light from above. Standing with his back to a pod he looked nervous and out of place. Instantly Kurt knew a kindred spirit when he felt it. 

“Kurt?” Rachel whispered.

Blue eyes quickly went to the girl hovering so close to Kurt who sort of smiled. Just as fast his eyes wander back to that pod. The blond kid had vanished. Kurt let out a sigh.

“Come on, it’s not that bad, now,” Rachel whispered.

Kurt gave her a curious look followed by a low grunt. Yes, he could be worse. 

Rachel sympathetically gazed at him. She tried to smile, to create a light hearted atmosphere but Kurt could sense her fear. Tucker her under Kurt’s skinny bicep, she suddenly suggested, “Let’s stick together.”

Kurt did not know her but she touched him as if she owned him. Her grasping grip sent a shudder up his spine. He never really let people that close to him. His mother hurt him by leaving when he was young. He loved her, missed her and despised her all at the same time. His father filled that gap the best he could be he left him as well. Of the few acquaintances he had on the farm, he may have considered one of them to be close . . . perhaps wishful close. He liked Bryan. The sweet, red, blond boy exuded kindness and a genuine desire to please. He would hug Kurt when they would meet. At first that freaked Kurt out but then he could not say no. Something about Bryan made him feel safe. 

Kurt pouted. He missed Bryan’s charming smile and dark, dark blue eyes. He had felt longing for the gentle boy he had never experienced before or since. Thinking of the gentle boy only forced the walls to grow up about him. Everyone Kurt had ever cared for had abandoned him. 

“You alright,” Rachel slowed at Kurt’s hesitance. 

Dark brown eyes bore down on Kurt and he had to look away. He blinked and again he saw hazel flecked with green. He sighed.

“Kurt?” Rachel stepped in front of Kurt with a half turn staring at him. 

Even though he could not say he trusted Rachel, he knew he had to be honest. “Just remembering.”

“Your parents, again?” Rachel’s whispering. Her tone hinted of sorrow.

“No, someone at the farm I knew. His name was Bryan.”

Lowering his head while shaking it, Kurt’s heart pulled at him. His throat constricted. Some of the Betas beat Bryan up one day. The next time he saw his friend, Bryan acted completely different as if his mind had vanished. Out of pity or loyalty, Kurt helped him but then Bryan could not function as he had about the farm. The monks removed him from the work area. The next time he saw Bryan, the boy swept the walkways of the main building. It took him weeks to learn that simple task. 

Biting her lip, Rachel hesitantly whispered. “The simple boy the monks looked after.”

“Yes.” Kurt sadly grinned. 

“Oh? A friend.”

“My only friend.”

Rachel smirked and forcefully tugged Kurt back into motion. “Well you have a new one now.”

It took almost all the allotted time to reach the auditorium. Still holding onto Kurt’s arm, Rachel pulled back as they entered. A massive room grew up around them. Curving like a horseshoe, rows of sloped seats stretched out before them facing a round stage set against the back wall. Over their heads more seating hung from the ceiling by huge, thick cords and a lattice of metal extending out form the side walled. Sloped and shaped into the two thirds dish with no center. 

From where they stood the lower seats had all been taken. Making their way to the stairs that appeared to be suspended like the upper seating, they climbed up to find most of the upper level full as well. It looked to be just enough seating for all the kids. The adults gathered near the bleachers set into a metal wall behind the circular stage. 

Approaching a curving row, Kurt saw there would be no way they would be able to sit side by side. Waves of relief and sadness passed through him. He wanted to be alone but at the same time he desired to have someone close. The hours of suffering rested squarely on his mind and heart. At least Rachel seemed to be kind if not a little needy. He felt her own fear and apprehensions. It drew him to her. 

About a third of the way into a row, a girl sat with a seat on either side of her. Knees pressed up against the back of the chair in front of here she did not seem to care about those looking for seating. Marching down the row, Rachel said something to her and the girl made a face. Standing there with her hands on her hips, Rachel glared at the blond woman who looked up at her with doe eyes. Something passed between them and then the blond bobbed her head back and forth and moved one seat to the right. Looking back Rachel signaled Kurt over. 

Squeezing past the already seated teenagers a couple grumbled but most remained quiet. Kurt recognized the dazed looks on their faces. They knew but they did not really understand why they had been rushed into the pods and what would happen to them. One person made a face as he pulled back to let Kurt pass. A tuft of floppy dark, curly hair waved back and forth. A dark haired girl poked at his ass has he squeezed by. She chuckled causing Kurt to suddenly leap to the side where another girl grumbled about just missing his feet. Finally making it to the seat Rachel had secured Kurt sat. Rachel’s fingers clasped his arm. He wished she had not. 

The blond beside him swayed her long hair back and forth as if she listened to music but the only sound heard consisted of the chatter of hundreds of nervous kids. Kurt stared at her creaming white complexion. Perfect. He wished. Soft, playful blue eyes looked about with wonder and amazement. She had an angelic innocent look that made her prettier than Rachel. Something warned Kurt to keep his opinion to himself. 

Her shoulder pressed into Kurt’s and then she suddenly looked at him. Without reason she blurt you out. “I’m Brittany Pierce and you smell like puppies.”

Without even realizing it Kurt’s face bunched up. What? Kurt’s eyes gazed into her eyes. His knees suddenly trembled. Her doe faced look pierced his eyes all the way to his soul. Kurt quivered but he could not pull himself away. How could anyone be afraid of her? She had an adorable naivety about there that capture the heart. 

“Uh . . . Kurt . . . Kurt Hummel.”

“Nice to meet you, uh . . . Kurt . . . Kurt Hummel.” Brittany smiled a charming, easy smile. 

A tiny smile spread Kurt’s lips. 

“Rachel Berry.” A hand suddenly thrust across Kurt’s chest pinning him.

Smiling, the blond shook the hand without as much as an emotion on her face. 

Huffing, Rachel’s hand fell away to grip Kurt’s arm again. She squeezed when he tried to pull away. Something inside told him he had just made a mistake though he did not know exactly what.

Down on the stage nearly one hundred adults collected about the foldable bleachers. Talking to one another a single person stood out amongst them in the center of the stage with her arms crossed and shoulder’s squared. Even from the distance Kurt noticed the stern look on her face. She barked something the crew hustled just a little bit faster. In the end four people stood in a row behind the officer in the fore front—three woman and a solitary man. 

The blond officer stood there with her hands on her hips looking up at the mass of chatting teenagers. She did not looked pleased. She said something to the audience. Some of the kids take notice but most keep chattering like a gaggle of magpies. 

Kurt found the whole scene amusing. 

“Shut your god damned traps!” the woman yelled, her voice echoing to the further corner of the auditorium. 

In seconds only gasps and a few mumbled are heard from the audience. 

“Excellent, you can learn. Wonders.” She began to pace as her eyes survey the crowd. Mechanisms strengthened her voice throughout the large room.

From where he sat Kurt could not see much. She’s a long way away but the abruptness of her hard voice seemed to have worked. Honestly all the noise gave him a headache. Briefly glancing at the ladies on either side of him, Kurt hid a smirk. Rachel sat there with horrified look on her face. Brittany giggled to herself like a little girl. The blond might be fun in an aggravating way. 

“Now, we might be able to get along yet and I mean yet!” Sue pointed out into the audience. “I am Lieutenant Sue Sylvester and I’m in charge of Lander Twenty One. These fine ladies and one want-to-be behind me are my senior staff. Sub-lieutenant Owens, step forward.”

A plumpish blond woman takes two steps and halted. She sort of waved but her hand falls quickly when Sylvester turns her head slightly toward the sub-lieutenant. Smiling produced rows of big teeth and a happy disposition. 

“Sub-lieutenant Penny Owens is in-charge of your health needs. So, any ailments, hang nails or you tripped and stubbed your little toe, you go whine to her.” With a wave of her hand Sylvester dismisses her. “Sub-lieutenant Beiste!”

A large woman or is it a man, stepped crisply forward. One heel slams on the deck when she saluted. Calling her plain would be brave. Waves of short hair surrounded her blocky face that reminded Kurt of a dog he had seen in an old historical record one day. The breed had long gone extinct. Big framed, she stood with her hands clasped behind her back in the most intimidating manner. 

“Sub-lieutenant Sheldon Beiste is in-charge of your physical and military education.” Sylvester proudly looks at woman to her right and slightly back.

Physical education? Kurt’s head stirred. God’s no! Sweating? Others around him seem to be more concerned with her other role.

“Silence!” the lieutenant barks. “Military training is not up for negotiation. It is required for all of you, even the fuffer.”

Snickers pass through the audience. Kurt shrank down into his chair only to be jolted slightly forward by a foot smashing into the back rest. Glancing over his shoulder, Puckerman sat on an angle to him. Kurt cringed.

“No, my little ankle bitters,” Sylvester continues. “We’re not going into a combat zone. So lean your head on the dumbass beside you and wipe you nose. Sub-lieutenant Schuester.”

The lean, wavy haired man takes a couple of steps forward. Kurt feels almost sorrow for him.

Sylvester glanced at Schuester and then shook her head. “This pathetic example of manliness is in-charge of your education. Yes, boys and girls, you will be going to school and not that dribble you once knew. You will of course be expected to excel in the basics but you will also be engrossed in science, engineering, and, yes, some of you will learn to slop the pigs and milk cows.”

Slouched down in his chair Kurt’s eyes looked down to his boots imagining how they would look buried in slop. Beside him Rachel pouted at him as if he could do something, 

“Last we have Sub-lieutenant Emma Pillsbury.” Sylvester glanced back when no one stepped forward. 

The woman almost tripped when she stepped forward. Long red hair coiled down to her shoulder and around her oval face. Large, wide eyes stared up at the crowd as she wringed her hand together. 

Sylvester shook her head. “I hope we did not keep you from your tea. Anyhow, giblets, you are looking at the person who will look after all those disgusting adolescent things people your age deal with. Basically she’s your shrink. Yes, fatty, she has an assortment of small protective devices that will keep our pigs safe.”

Chuckles passed through the crowd. Kurt could almost imagine Karofsky hiding under his chair. Delicious. Perfectly delicious. The moron behind him kicked the back of Kurt’s seat again,

“Now, my bright, young, horny peacocks and hens, you may have gathered we are in deep space. So don’t piss yourselves. This vessel, so stupidly called The Arc, is not a military ship nor is it controlled by the stiff shirted corporate types. This lovely craft is the property of the Foundation. Now if you spent your time listening to the tutorial and not playing with yourselves, you would know this is a colony ship. You will not be returning to the great ball of polluted crap called Earth. This is a one way trip, kiddies.”

Loud chatter breaks out. Kurt can see that the lieutenant is enjoying herself. All about him, including Puckerman, gasping, crying or jabbering away. Kurt feels surprisingly calm. The pit of his stomach burbled a little but not because he is hungry. A warmth spreads there as the anticipation grows and in some part of his mind he noted a flicker of hazel. 

Waiting just long enough for emotions to peak, Sylvester called out, “Shut up!”

It takes a few seconds for silence to fall.

The lieutenant grinned. “Now, that all your panties are in a bunch, you have today to yourselves to do, god knows what. All the facilities will be open to you to poke your snotty noses into. Your classes, recreation and luxurious dining schedules have been posted to your lovely new and spacious suites. Do take the time and grovel in an attempt to convince your teachers to pass you over. Lights out at ten and the trumpet will sound at six.”

A low rumble follows.

“Now, why don’t you go and play or whatever it you do, except you fatty.” Sylvester waves her hand to the kids in the front rows as if telling them to shoo. She then pointed at a spot a yard in front of her. “You can stand right there.”

Hiding his grin, Kurt watched Karofsky’s bulk lift out of the chair close to the front of the first level.


	4. Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains sexual content.

The lights waned mimicking the passage of hours allowing the darkness of a starry sky to slowly take over. The huge fifteen hundred foot long and one hundred foot wide transparent metal window provided a colourful backdrop to Kurt’s favourite place. The atrium at the top of the lander faced out and away from the bulk of The Arc. Trees, shrubs, flowering plants, birds, insects and small animals dwelt on either side of a bubbling stream leading into a large, deep, walled off pond filled with fish. On Earth, Kurt did not get to enjoy such delights. The semi-protected area he lived in had little green space. One needed to dwell in the high security, corporate zones to enjoy vast parks and wide open spaces.

The atrium automatically locked its doors in what had been designated as the evening and night. The Arc followed a cycle based on the spinning of the Earth. Large lights shut off to be replaced by smaller, dimmer ones that mirrored street lamps. Everything else went dark. In the atrium the lights died away completely allowing the stars to come at as they did not Earth. Kurt did not really remember the stars. The backlash of the light from the mega-cities dawned the night sky out. The place represented peace.

On that first day, when they had been given the freedom to look around, two teenagers marvelled at the birds they found flapping from limb to limb. As the day moved on, Kurt discovered the complexity of the ecosystem when he screamed after a mouse ran over his boot. Finding a lizard staring at him caused him a moment of pause. The two stared at one another for several long moment before the scaly little thing stuck its tongue out and calmly walked away. The sight of a small owl in in a tree one late night mesmerized him. He watched it swoop down to snatch up a rodent. The sight both fascinated and alarmed the fourteen year old.

Vastly different from any place he had been before, it surpassed the farm. Well, the word farm did not describe the orphanage. In fact the entire facility had been constructed similar to a huge multi-level parking lot several hundred acres in size. Ten levels tall, most of the crops grew in hydroponic bays. Fruit trees stretched to the sun near the top and vegetables in middle and livestock at the bottom. Situated away from the squalor of the massive cities and close to other farms, a triple layer of thick walls and electrified fences protected the precious food from marauders. Heavily armed guards and mechanical devices patrolled the perimeter. Most of what grew ended up in the bellies of the corporate workers with some of it being transformed into the hard nutrition bars the general population lived on. Eating off the vine meant punishments or transfer to one of the industrial complexes. Kurt did not want to witness other flogging.

This space did not represent food production. Yes, the fish they grew benefited those on Twenty One but for the most part the plants had been chosen for two reasons. One, they cleansed the air and two, they helped purify the waste products. Kurt cared little for this other than for the job he had been assigned. He had been thrust into a maintenance roll as part of their instruction. To Rachel’s dismay she ended up in the kitchens. Again. Brittany found herself assigned to one of the physics laboratories. Kurt still could not figure that one out.

Kurt met the pouty lipped blond . . . well, the kid actually sought Kurt out in the atrium. Sam Evans turned out to be a good chap. Abused like Kurt, he had a spark for the dramatic that entertained. He worked up in Lander Fifty Seven, one of the agricultural landers, where he took care of cows and pigs. Kurt had joked asking if he had seen Karofsky there but Sam did not know who Kurt spoke of. Something about his gentle and shy manner endured him to Kurt. Perhaps he reminded him of Bryan. Kurt did not know. To his surprise he found he liked having the pouty boy around, especially after he bathed. Sam’s quiet, playful nature made people fawn over him. Handsome and well-built for his age, his clumsy mannerisms got in the way when it came to chasing girls. All the boys, well not all, figured out the advantages of being the minority as time moved on at the same old boring pace.

Kurt had come to the top of Twenty One to work on a water pump needed to create the rain cycles. The routine maintenance made him happy. Working reminded him of his father and in a good way. Every now and then the boy would shudder as if he somehow felt the man’s gentle touch. At first it frightened him but then it lifted a low heart producing some measure of hope he could escape tormentors. Being alone created a sense of security and this place feed his self-worth. From Kurt’s perspective life on The Arc had become worse than the farm. At least the monks maintained and enforced certain practices of tolerance. Here most of the adults seemed to look away, well not all. Sub-lieutenant Beistie made an example out of one girl after she had attacked a redhead classmate. The girl ended cleaning the sewage works where it filtered liquefied waste into the atrium for recycling.

The first time Kurt came up here one of the adult mechanics came with him. The jovial fellow proved to be both diverting and informative. Jake worked on the construction of the vast vessel and knew every mechanical system. Recruited from one of the industrial area in what had been Germany, she spoke with a heavy accent. He looked at life as a challenge and did not worry about voicing his opinions. Kurt giggled through several comical rants about their lieutenant and a few of the other officers. Over time Kurt came to like the average looking and somewhat chubby forty year old. Like did not mean trust but at the moment, Kurt did not cast off hope.

Jake told Kurt other people had the job of maintaining the planet, animal and insect populations. Everything had to be just right in order to maintain a delicate balance. Without these ecosystems and the agricultural landers, a long space flight would be impossible. Atmospheric scrubbers could only do so much and on top of that the sight of vegetation lifted the spirit. Jake worked the first ten year shift while the other ninety present of the crew slept. They woke him up five years ago with the rest of the crew. Why? Kurt did not know and Jake remained tight lipped. Kurt did learn from the man that Mr. Shu, Kurt’s nickname for Sub-Lieutenant Schuester, had arranged for Kurt to given the task of maintaining the water systems in the atrium. Kurt tried to find out why but Mr. Shu would say little. It aggravated him for a few days but then he discovered the true meaning of this place.

Today, Jake left Kurt to do what he had to do. Shortly after they arrived he had been called off to work on something of greater importance. Kurt knew what to do and Jake trusted him. It gave him some ‘me’ time away from the teaming chatter and ever watchful eyes of hundreds of kids. Even with the privacy panel erected about his cubicle it did not feel secluded. A few feet away someone else got along just as he did. It took a while for everyone to settle into the new routine.

The dim overhead told Kurt the clamouring horde would be flowing between their staggered recreational and dining schedules. Kurt did not care. He had something to complete and that took precedence. Lieutenant Sylvester might grumble in her uniquely childish manner but in the end the job could not be left half complete.

The first time he had been left alone in the vast chamber, it freaked Kurt out. All the plants, a single bird flapping over his head and the sound of running water unnerved him. He had never seen running water before nor the free motions of animals. Over time he became to love the place because it allowed him to escape his small group of acquaintances. Regardless of Rachel’s thoughts Kurt did not call any of his small circle friends. Sam and Brittany made Kurt laugh while clingy Rachel caused his eyes to roll out of her view. The four spent a lot of time together, if not for any other reason than staying away from the Betas. Karofsky rejuvenated the horrid group. Number about a dozen, they avoided outright carnage in fear of an acid tongued officer. Oddly that Finn kid seemed to move along the fringes of that vile group. That did not prevent Finn from helping toss Kurt into the occasional garbage container. Luckily Kurt worked on the automated systems and knew how to get out.

Sitting on a bench overlooking the flow of the brook trickling into the pond, Kurt cleaned his tools. One by one he rubbed them down removing every little piece of grim. A habit the boy forced on his father, Kurt hated dirt in all its forms. He wished he had gloves. Grease took a long time to get out from under his nails. Obsessive cleanliness had been a gift from his mother who kept a spotless house in the direst of circumstances.

Happily hummed to himself Kurt felt amazingly complete. Music had always been an important part of his life. His mother pushed in the most loving way to allow her son to have some happiness in a bleak world. She let him sing and dance about their tiny abode much to his father’s dismay. Burt would roll his eyes and then laugh. Living at the farm taught the boy to keep his mezzo-soprano voice to himself. Fear stifled his beautiful tone.

Overhead the twinkling of the stars and the brilliant colours of nebulas became more intense as the atrium gradually shifted into night mode. Shadow and light played with one another in the most spectacular way. Tonight seemed especially appealing. For the first time in weeks his heart felt light and the constant fear retreated to some unrecognizable area of his body. He found himself thinking of his parents in fondest way. His dad lounged on their one real chair while mom cleaned up from dinner. Kurt would lounge on his bed that folded down from the wall. The day had been nothing unusual and with the coming of darkness mom would have all the chores completed. The solar flashlight would power a single point of light to brighten their evening. Then the nighty half hour ritual would ensue. Dating back to a time before Kurt’s birth, a child adored the family time.

His mother’s favourite song reverberated against Kurt tonsils. She finished the dishes piled up through the day. Water cost money and like most families, they reused water from other processes. A couple of hours before the same dishwater had been used to wash clothing.

Completely taken with the peace encompassing the atrium, Kurt opened his mouth rising his voice mirroring his mother’s song. Suddenly he fearfully pulled back. Wide blue eyes darted about searching. He found nothing but a bird sitting on a branch pecking on the bark of a tree.

Laughing, Kurt felt stupid and annoyed. He had let his guard down but then it felt exciting. The chords had sent a vibration through his body he had never experienced before. The heart rose high into his chest and for a moment he felt something he had not acknowledged in years—love. The sensation called to him across time. His mom held him and his dad told one of his cheesy jokes. The aching he felt know felt very different to that of a cut.

Then the phase ‘what the fuck’ etched a hold on his mind. Casting his trepidations to the wind, melodic syllables rolled from his throat. Goosebumps gave his smooth skin texture. The soul opened and some of the tension drained away. His mother stood in that light her arms spread wide singing in the most beautiful voice Kurt had ever heard. The old tune delighted her seven year old son. Burt, on the other hand, tolerated what, to him, sounded like many babies crying. Kurt would always laugh and then receive a big hug as his prize.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l-cZ_ElJ1oA)

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_  
_Take these broken wings, and learn to fly_  
_All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise_

Kurt’s eyes closed taking him into one of his favourite fancies. In the safety of the recurring dream enthralled people listened and even accompanied. Kurt stood in a luxurious room wearing the most fabulous and trendy clothes. Teenage boys dressed in matching jackets stared in awe. Three more sat behind a table as if passing judgement. Kurt’s face rose in song mesmerizing the audience with his range and tone. The world circled around him.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_  
_Take these sunken eyes, and learn to see_  
_All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free_

This one, simple pleasure sustained Kurt in the worst of times and now . . . but, this time, his body vibrated in the most mysterious way. The rhythm of the words and the vibrancy of his voice held him fast as if the audience somehow found substance within his mind.

_Blackbird, fly_  
_Blackbird, fly_  
_Into the light of the dark black night_

The effervescence of a private moment altered the image. Coils of fog rose up from the cushions casting shadows across the leather. Those in the dream did not notice but blue eyes fixed upon the edge of the couch where a cushion depressed as if someone weighed against it. The shadow cast up the back of the couch resembled a male body. Puffs of dark mist swirled in and about itself taking on the form similar to the shadow. Ripples formed as if this floating vision wore something similar to those who had fresh. Twisting up over the shoulder the dim wisps of grey took on the shape of a head. Hair, brows, the thickness of the lips, jaw and cheeks shivered as if a light breeze touched the vapour. Time stalled and the soul somehow pronounced a heart filled hello.

_Blackbird, fly_  
_Blackbird, fly_  
_Into the light of the dark black night_

Abstract terror gripped Kurt but in no way could he divorce himself his altered trance. Physically, his throat, tongue and lungs continued to expel the words even as a deep, distrusting sensation spread across his chest. His mind wanted to call out but the soul swelled. The words had to flow. The pounding of his heart and the tingling in his veins demanded it. The warmth deep in the stomach spoke of things Kurt dared not consider.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_  
_Take these sunken eyes, and learn to see_  
_All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise_

The profile of tender lips zoomed into Kurt’s mind. The sight formed in a manner similar to the countless bubbles rising to the top of a long, slender champagne flute. Porcelain skin flushed red and Kurt’s real eyes flicked. With each tiny dark segment, he noticed minute hints of colour within hues of grey. Tones of flesh and the pink of a soft, moist mouth boiled up from the right side of the face into a one sided smirked. The mists shifted into gentle, skin-like creases leaving Kurt with a sense of breathlessness. Green flashed along with a hint of hazel. Kurt’s chin dropped as the amber-brown deepened into bright, lustrous orbs. Translucent pupils dilated as if someone realized something emotionally amazing. Easy and warm, admiration floated upon a sea of hazel sparkled with emerald. Kurt’s heart suddenly pulsed against his ribs.

_You were only waiting for this moment to arise_

Unable to draw himself away, the song echoed down the length of the atrium. Those hazel balls surrounded by fluctuating grey stared at Kurt made him feel utterly naked right down to the very depths of his humanity. The body tingled as for a moment it felt as if a finger traced a line down Kurt’s cheek. Instinctively, lustily, he found himself leaning closer.

_You were only waiting for this moment to arise_

The song faded into silence leaving Kurt feeling . . . well he did not know what he felt. A sensation unlike anything he had felt before washed from the bottom of his feet to the top of his head. He blinked hoping it would all fade like his voice reverberating into the distance. A galaxy of hazel stippled with green surrounded by long, luxurious, full lashes appeared on the back of Kurt’s eyelids. The boy’s eye instantly flung open as if they had been clued shut. He shuddered.

Silence . . . freaking, fucking silence. Then Kurt caught his breath. Sweaty, shaking and more than a little flustered the teenager found himself unable to move. The lyrics of the century’s old song left him awestruck. His chest thumped and a gush of air escaped in one loud, suddenly release. He swallowed a dry throat. Weirded out, Kurt’s head swam with beautifully sexy and lustful emotion followed by sudden awareness—something hard bend uncomfortably against the constraints imposed by his underwear. Surging and throbbing with the beat of his heart. Stunned, Kurt had never experienced anything think like this before. His face suddenly flared the deepest red.

Both mortified and amused, Kurt glanced about and then his eyes fell down to his crotch. The bulge down there created a huge bump in his uniform. His right hand moved down to his midsection and then it abruptly stalled. How? Why? Hazel? Thinking of the light brownish yellow colour and twinkling traces of green caused his cock to jump. Frightened, Kurt almost fell from the bench. Both hands slammed down stabilizing his balance. The sudden motion let the tension go within his crotch. Kurt’s engorged snake stretched out to the left creating a long, thick line just below the waist band underclothes. He abruptly became aware of liquid dripped onto his skin. Warm and sticky, the trickle continued even as a strange sensation grew within his groin.

Wide eyes blinked several times. With each second of blackness Kurt saw hazel. The intensity with each flash of colour causes a surge to roll down his overreaching manhood. Overwhelmed he forced his eyes open and to his surprise he stared at the long mound under his pants. He blinked again and hazel invaded his thoughts. His manhood throbbed and the oozing warmth at the tip amplified. Shocked and deeply embarrassed, a hand suddenly landed next to his swollen member. Sparse light glistened upon his father’s ring as Kurt’s thumb tentatively brushed his hardness. A shiver shot down his back and a moist head pulsed. Something oozed onto his skin.

A finger joined the thumb adding pressure. The tension Kurt felt at the base of his fleshy shaft pressing against cloth caused him to suck in a breath. A third finger and his heart skipped a beat. The left hand came up to the buttons holding his pants together. Quaking, fingers pressed against the metal button moving the fabric. It popped.

Heat rose into white cheeks and the legs impulsively spread apart. A single finger reached down into the crack made by the free button finding the thick ridge at the top of his underwear. The digit continued to press deeper under the ridge. A low whimper erupted within Kurt’s throat when it encountered his pubic hair. The body quaked sending shockwaves heaving up the length of the part of his body Kurt he feared to grip.

The base of his extended pole twitched making Kurt feel alive. The mind raced to places he found hard to vocalize. It felt renewing and fresh. The sense of life echoing within his chest brought uncomfortable feelings to the surface and then something snapped behind him. The world crashed down up on Kurt wiping the image of hazel eyes away as if a puff a wind blew through the mist. Fiery heat burned through Kurt’s skin from the bottom of his feet to the top of his head. Blinking, both hands pulled together drawing the button back through the hole. The flesh stretching across his hip softened to two thirds of its enraged size.

Swearing under his breath, the boy panted. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. Then a huge gasp spewing from his mouth bringing sudden relief. A mouse darted out from beneath a shrub and across the path in front of the bench. He felt stupid.

Rolling his head Kurt drew in several short gasping breaths. It eased the trembling and cleared his mind. Bending down he started to arrange his tools again only to pause. His penis bent and pressed out along the ridge of his undergarments. Half the size it had once been, crusty ooze dried on skin. Biting his upper lip Kurt tried to rationalize it as an adolescent thing but then . . . Kurt did not know what to think. The admiration, longing and that sensation of adoring realization felt tangible. More real than anything Kurt had felt before it spoke to his heart and danced about his soul.

Quivering, Kurt forced himself to focus on his tools. The chill of the metal against his skin made him feel better. For a moment he thought of his dad. Burt always knew exactly what to say to his confused son. Sniffling, Kurt glanced up at the stars and then to his right. His heart exploded draining all the colour from his face. Someone stood behind him.

“Nice voice, if not a bit high.” A brunette leaned against the trunk of tree at the side of the path with her arms folded across her chest. Dark eyes bore into Kurt. A good hand length shorter than Kurt, she had a hard determined look on her face. Shoulder length black hair rolled over the collar of her uniform. She spoke with a low, accented voice.

Gripping the screw driver tightly, Kurt’s the skin turned white. His throat constricted into a hoarse swallow.

One of the girl’s eyebrows went up as if something amused her. She reached up and gripped a branch swishing it up and down menacingly.

“I would be careful,” Kurt’s voice squeaked at the beginning. My god! Did he see his thing? No . . . shit! His fingers trembled as his mind went every which way and it showed.

“Oh, this little thing?” the girl swatted the tree limb. “It’ll survive.”

Bloody hell. Why me? Why now? Kurt’s skin flushed red and the cooled to white again in uneven cycles. He could not believe what he had almost done. Guys at the farm boasted about playing with themselves. The idea of doing that made Kurt feel dirty but the fact he actually contemplated the act, emphasised his mortification.

The girl smirked. “You going to play with that tool all day?”

Holy Christ, she saw! Furious heat rose in Kurt’s cheeks. Looking at the tool squeezed in his fist, he slowly put it down. When a phrase rolled from his tongue the syllables nervously vibrated through the octaves “What are you doing here?”

“I was just about to ask you the same thing, canary?” The girl pushed away from the tree. Mischief glistened in her eyes. “I don’t hear voices raised in . . . whatever that was . . . often.”

Embarrassed, Kurt drew in a breath.

Taking a step closer, the girl gave Kurt a questioning look. “Maintenance gig?”

“Yeah, that gives me permission to be here.” Kurt’s voice had an edge of command to it.

“Yeah, so does this,” The girl beamed triumphantly when he held up a pass card. Then something caught her attention and she abruptly turned around.

A lean blond girl rounded the corner of the path obscured by thick plants. The look on her face did not appear to be anything Kurt recognized and then it suddenly changed. Slowing, her eyes glazed over and an impish smiled pulled at her lips. In a childish, surprised tone she said, “Hi puppy?”

“Puppy?” The brunette looked perplexed.

An innocent smile brightened Brittany’s face. “Yeah, he smells like puppies.”

The brunette’s head pulled back with a funny appearance squishing up her mouth. Brows pressing together she pounded a fist into her other hand.

Kurt winced.

“Santana, he’s one of the good ones?” Brittany sauntered over and sat on the bench. Her head fell sideways against Kurt’s shoulder.

Santana? Oh, gods, she’s the one sentenced to cleaning reclamation system for two weeks. Rough and tough people gave her wide birth. Her sharp tongue made the most hardened assholes cringe. While that could be considered a plus, this girl scared Kurt.

Chuckling, Santana shook her head. “You know this . . . “

“Yeah,” Brittany cut Santana off. “He’s one of the bullied kids and then he's so cute.”

Kurt blushed and looked away.

“Oh, the kid with the oily, red cheeks has a crush on you?” Santana blurt out.

Kurt choked.

Brittany smiled at Kurt. “He’s a happy sort?”

Rolling her eyes, Santana scowled and then said something in a language the boy did not understand. The tone and hand gestures reminded him of someone swearing.

Shifting her weight so that she knee struck Kurt’s thigh, Brittany said to the other girl. “Speak English.”

The brunette scowled.

“You jealous?” The blond blurt out with a smirk.

“Of him?”

“Of him?”

The short exchange hit Kurt as odd. The comical nature of their expressions took his mind off his own issues. Cool threads pulled at his skin taking some of the tension with it. Breathing became easier and the pounding in his chest subsided.

“Come on, Santana.” Brittany bobbed her head playfully back and forth. “Let’s just start over”

Santana gave Brittany a funny look.

“Santana?” Brittany gazed at the brunette with uncharacteristically hard eyes. Her hand rested on her hips.

Santana huffed folding her hands over her chest. Her face hardened. “Fine,”

Brittany giggled. “Santana, this is Kurt. Kurt, Santana.”

Stunned, Kurt hesitated. Pondering, he abruptly decided not to not allow his fear completely control him. A hand shot out toward Santana as he offered a strained smile. “Kurt Hummel.”

Santana’s eyes roll up with her head and then her head snapped down. She glared at Kurt. “Oh . . . you’re Fluffer?”

Kurt blanched. He hated his new nickname. Heat rose in his throat along with the anxiety in his heart. Lowering his head, he closed his eyes only to have a flash of hazel burst against his retinas. Between his legs the tip of the fleshy rod that had caused his disgrace pulsated as it plumped out. Suddenly his face turned another shade of red.

“Santana,” Brittany chastised. “That was not nice.”

The brunette rolled her eyes.

Sliding along the bench Brittany bump against giving him a hopeful pleasant grin. “You heard him. He has an amazing voice.”

Glancing to Brittany, Kurt almost looked thankful.

Santana leaned forward with a firm look etched onto her brow. “A little high pitched for a . . . I guess . . . for a boy.”

A sigh escaped the Kurt’s lips. There would always be bullies. He wished but they went unanswered. Happiness would never be his.

One of Brittany’s eyebrows shot up.

“Perhaps he does have some talent, Brit.” Santana conceded. She leaned heavily on one leg her arms crossed. She looked Kurt up and down. “Was that a song?”

“Yeah,” Kurt defended himself. His stomach flipped.

“Right,” Santana scoffed and glanced away as if the nearby tree represented something more interesting.

“I dare you.” Brittany grinned at other girl.

Without a word, Santana lifted her voice in song. Her accent gave it a wonderful, raspy tone that send a shiver up Kurt’s back. Modern music always did that. A gathering of disjointed notes and words, singing solo presented a challenge. Better done in groups, the clashing lyrics and rhythm created a torrent of conflict. At least Kurt saw it that way. The older music had harmonies that complimented and played off one another. The modern stuff sounded like cats humping.

Slowly getting up Brittany strolled over to Santana and wrapped an arm about her waist. Her gorgeous voice joined with Santana’s in the most awful way. The sound grated at Kurt but the girls seemed to be enjoying the offbeat tones.

Averted his eyes nausea washed over Kurt. His face drooping down at the tool kit and closed his eyes. Once more hazel speckled with green interrupted the darkness causing his heart to skip. Suddenly afraid his eyes blasted open. Breathing in short breaths the wand between his legs expanded within his pants only to subside just as fast. Skin flushed scarlet.

“He likes us,” Santana yelled as she swung her hip in against Brittany who lost her balance and almost fell.

Kurt endured the incoherent, off key notes. He tried to tune it out the grating lyrics by forcing his own style of music into his mind. Melding one aspect of what he loved to part of the foreign beat, the body began to move with the bizarre tempo. The only way to coup, his style snuck into the other like a whisper in the wind. Gradually some aspect of himself touched the scrambled notes resonated within his ears. Cascading along his nerves Kurt’s head pulled back and then his chin thrust out and his voice exploded out into the vast chamber. Adding harmony to the girlish mishmash, longing touched him. He wanted this. He needed his voice to be heard. The body trembled as the head of his cock swelled with the volume.

Santana’s brow curled and Brittany’s face shifted from pleasure to ‘what’. Both stopped leaving a ghostly and strangely emotional voice hanging in the trees. Kurt’s tones effortless floated up above high C on the old scale and then suddenly tumbled down to virtual silence. The last puff of air from his lungs brought the end to all human noise.

The girls stared at him and then Brittany jumped clapping her hands. “Wow that was so different. Where did you learn to do that?”

Santana turned to stare at the jovial blond. She looked disappointed. “What crap!”

Shrinking back, Kurt felt as if he could throw up.


	5. Fall Out

Harsh words tore away any good feelings leaving Kurt more an a little numb. It revealed itself when Puckerman hip checked him into the wall. Sliding to the floor, Kurt just sat there staring straight ahead listening to laughter. Physical pain did not compare to the ache in his chest. He thought he had found his niche but that proved to be false. Self-worth swirled in the toilet with the rest of the crap. 

To cope Kurt stretched his maintenance chores as far as he could. Days later he worked on the air reclamation system in the library as the light system faded away into evening mode. On the lower decks the horde of kids settled down for the evening. In the beginning most of the teenagers stretched the rules and now the toll showed. Many went to bed early to catch up on the sleep as the grueling class load increased and the practical portions of their education became tougher. Where the pace has been easy going, a month ago Kurt got the impression that everything had been accelerated. When he asked Jake the usually mild manner man blew up at him. A couple of days later he apologized without much of an explanation. 

Kurt never pressed because he realized all the adults seemed to be on edge. Jake disappeared for a few days and Mr. Shu took over supervising not only Kurt but a large number of others. The sub-lieutenant stumbled along as if he had not gotten a lot of sleep. When Jake showed up again he had trouble staying awake. Feeling sorry for the fellow, Kurt worked double duty to give Jake a chance to nap for an hour here and there. In the end it kept Kurt from bumping into the people he wished to avoid.

Regrets pulled at him now and then regardless of how mad Kurt felt. He did not blame Sam nor could he find fault in the new girl. Mercedes added a new aspect to their little group. Sam brought her to their secret little meetings in an out of the way storeroom Kurt had access to seven weeks ago. Kurt did not know quite what to think of her but the manner in which her voice effortlessly rose and fell in beautiful tones complimented him better than the modern stuff. Her talent created friction with Rachel which, in turn fed Santana. Kurt wanted to experiment, Rachel wanted the lime light while Santana, well Kurt did not really know what she wanted. Adding Mercedes to the mix, while good at first, added fuel to the embers. After five months, how the little group stayed together boggled Kurt’s mind?

From the floor it looked as if Kurt had become stuck in the narrow but long opening of a camouflaged duct. One knee rested on the top of the step ladder while the other leg stretched down to another step giving him balance. The hole in the roof sucked up one arm and a shoulder. His head vanished into the opening allowing him to see the components he worked on. Holding a long, heavy probe in an up turned hand, he strained to adjust the power flow to the system. Swamping out the components took the best part of the evening. Calibration took far less time but it had to be precise. The detailed work kept his mind from dwelling on his disappoint. 

Putting the device carefully down, Kurt spread his finger out wide. It felt good. The cramped space made it hard to get at the regulator without being a bit of contortionist. Jake struggled working on the tight spaces and Kurt’s size made it so much easier. Jake appreciated Kurt’s effort and reward him now and with something from the adult’s dining area. While Kurt did not like the sweets all that much, fresh fruit hit the spot. 

Allowing his shoulder to slump so that his armpit rested on the edge of the opening, Kurt looked the assembly for anything else he needed to do. All the seals appeared to be in place and the readout indicated it operated correctly. Nodding, he bend down extracting his head and upper body from the confined space. Rotating his shoulder and stretching his arm the socket popped. Sighing, he reached up and felt around for the probe. Grasping it in his finger he dragged out of the duct and sat his butt down on the top of the step ladder. 

Shifting his weight, Kurt paused. Blue eyes lowed toward plants nestled in a corner between a banquette and a floor to ceiling computer console. Desire pulled toward the atrium where he might even find the courage to hum again. He missed the vibration in depths of his throat and the sound of his own voice. His mother indulged him and over time his father accepted his quirks. Burt did not have a voice but he did try and sing with Kurt. For a child, it made for humourous father and son bonding. 

The thought of his parents brought a grin to his face. Perhaps they spoiled him? Leaning forward so that his chin came to rest against the palm his elbow pressed into his thigh. As a child Kurt always thought the stark reality did not represent the truth. Some part of him longed for some other time. Oddly, McKinley felt right but not in the way it existed. Over the past few months he had used the library databases to search for historical records. To his surprise a high school once occupied the place where the monks lived. He found this very interesting but digging found little more. The dissolution of what had been the United States of America following a short and bloody civil war in the mid-twenty second century meant many records had been lost. This event marked the rise of the global corporate state.

Pushing his lips out, Kurt glanced up at rectangular opening above him. Straightening his leg, Kurt’s head popped back up into the hole for a last look. Glancing in both directions he had not left anything behind and the flashing lights indicated the air flowed again. He felt proud of a job well done. The feeling gave the boy a moment of pause. Working on a complicated piece of equipment pleased him. 

Lowering himself back down to the seat at the top of the step ladder, Kurt tapped the button on the side of the duct the access port slid shut. Seconds later he heard the telltale hiss of indicating the system worked right. Picking up the probe from beside him, Kurt looked it over. No grim, great. 

“I’ll take that from you,” a soft, male voice suddenly said.

Sam, bloody Sam. Kurt froze and skin closed over his eyes cutting off the light. For a second he expected to see hazel but no, nothing. Ever since the squabble the hues hid. At first it did not bother him but then Kurt realized he missed the soothing colour. For a time the speckled pigments coated the inner eyelid kept him up and now that it had vanished he found it equally hard to rest. He anguished over the absence of the air brushing against his larynx producing a soft hum. Singing with his eyes shut brought that misty form to him. The tantalizing hazel lifted his heart causing the appendage between his legs to swell. At first it worried him but then urges took over. Still thinking it dirty, he did not play as other boys may have. Running fingers lightly over the sensitive skin, the tickling made fell alive. Now he felt lost. 

A hand came up and rubbed his forehead. At times Kurt thought his mind twisted away from him. He wanted to escape to the solitude of his bed. While he hated the tiny chamber at first, next to the atrium he found it a place to hide. With the movable wall in place the entire cubicle became utterly quiet making it the perfect place to cry. In the past few days water sporadically rimmed his eyes. Life seemed to spiral. 

“Kurt?” Sam’s voice drew out the name. Giving Kurt an odd look. Sam said in a low, almost silent tone. “I didn’t meant to frighten you.” 

A sigh blew out through Kurt’s lips. His eyes pulled together. The other boy stared at him with a puzzled look on his face. “Sam.”

“Kurt.” 

“Sam?”

Sam glanced down. “Kurt, I’m worried about you.”

“Sam?” As awkward as if felt, Kurt could not stop himself from grinning. Glancing at the pouty blond, he nervously fidgeted with the long electronic device he held. 

“Kurt, what happened?” Sam shook his head. “Well it sucks. I think what you do it’s . . . well different . . . but . . . “

“But?”

“It’s so cool. I grew up in a planation in the ocean swamps of the south coast. They have all sort of odd music down there. You know, the folk stuff. Well, your style is very much like what you find in those small villages in the middle of that messy soup.”

“You don’t need to do this.” Kurt looked down and slowly put the tool away in the case sitting on the rack on the other side of the steps. The muscles of his chest felt tense creating a tightness in his lungs. 

Sam pulled his lower lip into his mouth. “Damnit Kurt.”

“Why the fuck are you here Sam?” Kurt’s hand waved in the air and his voice rose in volume. “Rachel screamed at you? God knows Santana . . .”

“Hell . . . Kurt . . . I just miss you.” Sam forced the words out with a contorted face. 

Miss? Kurt looked down upon the other boy with a stunned appearance.

Shoulders drooping, Sam stared at the floor. In a soft, moving voice he calmly said, “Kurt, I do miss you.”

The sight of the pouty face conjured up an image of Bryan. By itself that had been enough for the muscles in the center of Kurt’s chest to swell with a sweet warm feeling. Incapable of much, the boy wandered about the housing complex of the monks like a ghost. The sight haunted Kurt but before him stood a boy who could be a friend . . . no, was a friend. The word hung on his mind like a piece of fluff floating on an almost still breeze. Fragile, at any moment it could fly away never to be seen again. A friend? A real friend! The lower lip pulled over the upper. Could he do this?

“Okay, Kurt, what happened wasn’t cool.” Quiet Sam almost pleaded. His eyes gave away his apprehension.

Swallowing hard, the bickering echoed in Kurt’s mind as if it had been yesterday.

“You have got to be kidding.” Rachel slid forward in her seat adorned in a dress similar to what an old woman would wear. Three months after waking, the kids had been allowed to create their own clothing as part of the many lessons. Two months later some of them had impressive wardrobes. 

“Rachel?” Kurt’s voice jumped slightly in pitch. It always did when he got upset. In a foul mood Santana started by picking apart what he wore.

His mother had taught Kurt to sew. Unlike the corporate types who had machines to fix almost everything, those outside the zones relied on other methods. For Kurt the fun involved making the fabrics. The store houses of lander sixty contained a huge supply of various kinds of raw materials along with manual looms and spinning wheels. He took to it like a fish swims. His acquaintances found his designs odd but Kurt loved the edginess. He plagiarized them from an old book on early twenty first century fashion. Wearing knee length shorts—no one showed knees any more—and a dark patterned button down shirt with a light yellow coloured vest, he made a statement. He hoped they would learn to make shoes. While comfortable, the basic uniform footwear looked awful.

Kurt thought little of modern fashion. It consisted of tight fitting outfits that reminded Kurt of something worn in the early seventeen hundreds. Women did not show much skin and the men could reveal bear arms and when voyeuristic, the indent below the Adam’s apple. For both sexes displaying the ankle up to mid-calf lay within the realm of acceptable. Convention allowed for loud patterns and bright colours. 

Santana blurt out. “Little Miss Big Nose should just forget it.” 

“I’m not going to do something like that.” Rachel rolled her head. Hard, dark eyes glared at Santana. She dug herself in. 

“Oh, don’t give us that, you superficial self-centered butterhead.” Santana leaned into Rachel across the table but her eyes fell upon Sam. “Big lips, here, might have suggested it but you bellowed like a banshee for days ramming it down our throats. The whole thing turned out to be a goddamned humiliation.” 

Sam flushed and looked away allowing his eye fell upon Mercedes. The blond guy had it for her but in his usual fashion he fumbled. It turned out she had a great and powerful voice. A hearty and sometimes nasty rivalry erupted. All three loved to sing and commonly pushed the two guys to one side. Amazingly and for the most part, things remained calm and amicable. 

Pointing a finger at Santana, Rachel held her ground. The end of her nose flared and her lips swelled up. “And what would you have us do, sit about the dim little room going deaf with your caterwauling.”

“Oh, listen here, Ms. Crack-a-Mirror, you have no taste at all. You call that shit music. I call it something a cat pukes over the carpet.”

“Oh, please, you think you know everything about music?”

“Obviously you don’t.”

“My father’s sent me to music school.”

“You mean dumbass fuck’n kindergarten!”

Rachel’s voice rose in volume. “At least I went to one.”

“Listen here, Miss Perfect,” Santana grumbled. She sat on end of the horseshoe shaped seating area set in the corner of the study area. Cleavage exposed itself through the undone buttons of the deep red blouse she had made. “We all agreed to this. Now you want to change it and why? Because of what, you do not get stand under a light?”

Rachel’s lips pulled in. “Standing in that spot gives the best view . . . “

“Of what?” Santana shot back. She sat forward. “Your fat nose.”

Rachel’s face reddened. 

Mercedes butt in. Her tone started off silent but grew in strength and volume. “It’s not as if someone is going to see us.”

“That’s was a mistake?” Rachel grumbled. “How do you expect to ever get anything out of this if we don’t show it off?”

“Show what off?” Santana chuckled. “Everyone already knows of the shadow your snout casts.”

“If you want someone to throw things, go back to the eating hall.” Mercedes eyes narrowed. She pressed herself in beside Kurt who separated her from Rachel. Weaving metallic cloth into bling, she wore it over the standard uniform. Large and loud, it suited her. 

Rachel flushed but her eyes remained fixed on the opposition. 

“That was fun?” Sam softly injected. He shyly glanced from Rachel to Santana. Wearing his uniform, he did not see the need to make something new. The garments they gave them worked fine, so why change. 

“It took hours to get the food out of my hair.” Brittany grumbled rolling her eyes. “I found stuff in my bra. Sticky but tasty.”

Santana gave Brittany an odd look and then turned her attention back to Rachel. “It was a stupid idea,” 

“It was going well until . . .” Rachel suddenly closed her month. 

Waving a finger at Rachel, Santana suddenly turned her anger on Kurt. The finger thrust toward the pale skinned boy. “It’s all your fault Fluffer.”

Taken back, Kurt straightened up. Eyes wide as if saying ‘me’, he knew where this would go. Regardless of the continuing arguments of the others Kurt refused to capitulate to the horrors of modern music. Sam supported him in his quiet way but Kurt knew they would never allow him to sing as he saw fit. Frustrated, Kurt satisfied himself with softly adding the harmony the others scowled at. Now and then he thought of telling them to just piss right off but then their little circle gave him an outlet.

“It was brilliant,” Rachel beamed. Her face suddenly changed and she glared at Santana with a hard look. “It all went off the rails when you started all the . . . what you call it . . . taco-stuff.”

“It’s great music.” Santana shot back.

“Yeah, right, awful best describe it.” Rachel shook her head.

Eyes locking on Kurt Santana went on. “With his lips-to-face ratio he can barely hold a tune. No lips and no smile, he shakes his hips as if he is stuck a scrubber in the waste preconditioners. He’s nothing but some funny looking little dork who thinks he can dress and talk. Really?”

Heat rose in Kurt’s face. Sinking down into his cushions he hated this. He only wanted to sing. 

“I don’t think that’s fair,” Mercedes looked to Kurt with apologetic eyes and then across his chest at Rachel. “Ms. Big Nose may have got us covered in whatever that slop was, but the white boy has added something fresh to the tired old stuff.”

Kurt detested being called white boy but then she stood up for him. She could be forgiven.

“Really, chubby checker,” Santana moved her head up and down as if studying Mercedes. “Fairycakes has no fuck’n idea what music is. He screams like he someone who stuck pins under his fingernails. He’s nothing but a . . .”

Slouching on the ladder, Kurt suddenly coughed. Things went downhill quickly and did not end when Kurt burst out of the library with tears in his eyes. He remembered hearing Sam calling to him. The blond boy even came to his cubicle only to find it empty. Kurt slept the next couple of nights in a small access corridor connecting the atrium to a storage area. Jake found him there one morning shivering. Kurt’s mentor did not ask questions and offered him some of the snack he had collected from the adults dining hall. It did not surprise him when Sub-Lieutenant Pillsbury hunted him down. A nice lady, she really had no clue what she should do.

From above Kurt noted Sam stepped closer and he drew in a deep breath. The blond boy’s proximity left him feeling less alone. With fifty thousand teenagers moving all around him, Kurt felt as if he lived by himself. Work took him all over The Arc but he spend most of his time on Twenty One. Each habitation lander mirrored anothers. Some kids explored them but Kurt saw no purpose in it. 

“You alright, buddy?” Sam asked with uncharacteristic emotion. 

Blue eyes slowly met green. Grinning, Kurt felt the sting of guilt in his chest. “I’m fine.”

Sam sort of smiled and took a step closer. “No you’re not.”

Kurt’s brows furrowed. Now he had to smile, an honest, warm smirk. Then it all crumbled. Water glistened on the edge of those blue eyes. Quietly had muttered, “No I’m not.”

“Why don’t you come down and we can talk?” The boys stared at one another for a moment and then Sam glanced to his left. Walking over to a seating area next to one of the computer terminals he crossed his arms and waited. 

Grinning, Kurt turned at the waist and closed the top of his tool kit. Standing he turned around and stepped down to rungs. Hefting the large, metal box by the handle he placed it on the very top step. 

Footsteps on the metal floor announced Sam’s approached. A hand came up supporting the metal container from below. “Here let me help.”

Kurt looked down at the other teenagers. “Sam?”

“Kurt, you could slip. Just hand it down.” Sam pushed his lips out. 

The sight almost made Kurt laughed. Shaking his head, he lifted the sealed container by the handle and lowered it down. Before waking he would never have been able to lift the awkward box. The Beast’s, a nickname for Sub-lieutenant Beiste, regime melted the baby fat from Kurt’s face. The cheeks pulled in giving him a more pronounced chin and cheek bones. He still hated sweeting but he enjoyed the benefits. His arms got thicker, his back and chest widened and he actually had a hint of stomach muscles. All the regimentation showed on Sam more. Kurt sighed every time the saw the boy in the change room. He looked real fine.

Taking the weight, Sam grunted. In response, Kurt hustled down the steps and helped the other boy balance the load. Together they lowered it to the floor. Sam mumbled, “This thing’s heavy.”

“It’s got wheels so I can pull it about behind me.” Kurt put his foot to the box and pushed. It glided to a stop a few inches away.

Frowning Sam glanced at the ladder. “Do you really like doing this stuff?”

Lowering his head Kurt suddenly thought of his father. Oddly he felt on real pain but rather the warm fuzziness. “It keeps me busy.”

Sam walked over to the couch again and sat. He flexed his arm and work the elbow as if removing stiffness. “And away from your friends.”

Biting his upper lip Kurt hesitated. He looked to Sam as his chin moved from right to left a few times. Friends? No? Well . . . no . . . Sam yes. Kurt liked Sam’s gentleness and humour. Rachel could be nice and charming when she decided not to be a deva. Quirky Brittany always surprised. The things that came from her mouth sometimes made Kurt wonder what alley her head lived in. As for Mercedes, Kurt could not make up his mind. Brash and kind, he often caught her staring at him in a manner that made him nervous. Scary Santana continued to unnerve him but then, sometimes, she showed the most amazing compassion. 

“Sam, I’m not stupid. I knew this would come eventually. Did they browbeat you into seeking him out?” Kurt fell suddenly silent. Voicing what would follow embarrassed him. However, the fact Sam came meant a lot. As for the others, Kurt did not know. In some ways he missed them. Who else did he have around his age to hang about with? Karofsky? He did try to kiss him at the farm. Maybe . . . gods no!

Sam’s eyebrows went up. “Kurt, we’re all sorry.”

Kurt looked serious for a moment. Drawing in a breath he made a face. “Even Santana?”

“Even Santana.” Sam patted the couch. 

Stretching his mouth to the right Kurt took the few steps to the couch and flopped down. All the while he considered that one word—friend. 

“Kurt, you know what she’s like.” Sam turned sideways so he gazed directly at Kurt. “She got out of hand and knows it. After you ran off, it went on for a while. Mercedes defended you.”

One of Kurt’s eyebrows went up.

Sam smiled. “She drove Santana nuts when she mimicked your style of singing.”

“Really?”

“Really. Rachel might have great voice but she can be . . . well I can’t say it.”

“Bitch.”

“Yeah that too.”

Kurt laughed. It felt good. Sam could easily do that.

“Rachel does have a point though.” Sam grimaced. “I like singing but doing it for others is exciting. It’s a waste to keep it all to ourselves.”

Brows pulled own toward Kurt’s eyes. His hands came together before his face. “After what happened, yeah right.”

“You may not want to believe this Kurt but a number of kids liked it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I bet Karofsky laughed.”

“One of his goons started it.”

Kurt let out a sigh. “Figures.”

Sam shuffled to the edge of the cushion of the stark metal couch. “Sub-lieutenant’s Schuester and Pillsbury think it may be a good idea.”

“What?” Kurt’s eyes went wide. Did she know? “What’s a good idea?”

“Singing.” Sam smiled. “They both sing.”

“You’ve got to be joking?” 

“Na.”

“But?”

“Bad-Sue kind of shot it down.”

Throwing himself back against the hard padding of the arm, Kurt frowned. Two hands came up to his face and then he glanced through his fingers at Sam. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Kurt, you’re a great person.” Sam almost blushed. 

The heart pulsed and Kurt felt embarrassing. “Sam?”

“No you are and . . .” Sam glanced down.

Kurt looked puzzled. “And?”

Green eyes rolled up so that Sam looked at Kurt on angle. Hesitance caught his tongue. “On the first day when I watched the jerk knock you down, I saw hope.”

The look on Kurt’s face revealed disbelief. On the inside his heart jumped. 

Sam carried on as if he has noticed the change in Kurt’s expression. “I don’t know what it was but watching you afterward hit me as safe.”

Kurt straightened up. “Safe?”

The blond kid’s head sank. Lines formed on his forehead and his face crunched up. Without moving, his eyes rolled up on an angle. In a soft, almost mouse like tone he said, “Safe . . . all I can say is safe.”

The pain in those green eyes dug into Kurt. Emotion played across the other boy’s cornea allowing Kurt to feel the discomfort as if it he owned it. The world they had come from misused the vast majority of the population. As a child Kurt had witnessed things that could ripped away ones humanity. Keeping what Kurt regarded as his civil nature proved hard at times. The memory of his mother demanded he follow the values she impressed upon him. At the same time life taught Kurt not to ask inappropriate questions. People got killed that way. He had to wonder what it had been like for Sam. The way he described the place he had been raised made Kurt both curious and horrified. At times he thought Sam bullshitted him but then how could he. The teenager had a tender streak that did not seem to fit his stories. A survival technique?

“You’re awfully quiet Kurt?” Sam’s throat moved as he heavily swallowed.

The head turned on an angle to look at Sam. Kurt’s chest tightened. “Sam, I don’t know what to say.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sam, you came here to talk me into going back but then . . .”

“Kurt, I know what everyone says about you.”

The pale boy with the high pitched face looked way. Redness rushed his cheeks. 

Sam skirted a little closer. “Is that why the assholes picking on you?”

Chewing on his lip, Kurt slowly nodded. More heat rose up his neck. Following his mother’s death Kurt told his father many personal truths. Burt struggled with the admission but he never stopped loving his son. In fact the older man tried his best to understand. In the corporate zones being it meant nothing as long as you still had children. On the outside such a lifestyle could prove dangerous. Living where they did insulated Kurt from an awful truth. 

The skin on Sam’s forehead pulling together. Eyes looked on Kurt he sort of smiled. “Kurt, please don’t be afraid to be yourself around me. I understand.”

Blinking, Kurt pulled back . . . Sam . . . no. 

Having noticed the look Sam responded, “I know what you may be going through, Kurt. My twin liked boys.”

Surprise exploded in Kurt’s eyes. His mouth hung open . . . twin?

Sam looked up with sorrowful eyes. “Kurt, you remind me of Mark.”

The pump in the center of his chest pounded against Kurt’s ribs. “Oh?”

“Your mannerisms are very close. He liked to sing. We both did. We would sing together all the time.”

“Sam?” 

“It’s alright Kurt.”

“No, I’m not thinking . . . well I do not know what I am trying to say.” Kurt paused and glanced down. Drawing in a hard breath he wrung his hands together. “Sam, I’ve had one friend in my life and a bunch of goons beat him up. Bryan was never the same after that. Other than my parents, he was the only one I cared about.”

Sam sighed and a tear rolled from his eye. “My father killed Mark.”

Kurt gasped.

Closing his eyes, Sam held his breath for a moment and then he bravely stared at Kurt. “Mark was the gentlest person I had ever know. We were identical in so many ways but I like girls. My dad caught him with an older boy. He killed them both.”

“Is that why . . . ?” The words flowed from Kurt’s mouth without really thinking. As soon as he realized it he slammed his mouth shut. He felt terrible. 

Sam nodded.

“Sam . . .” Kurt’s face went blank. Emotion chewed up his smooth skin as pain flashed across his eyes. 

“Don’t sweet it, Kurt. I miss my brother but . . .” The last couple of words choked up in Sam’s throat. 

“I . . . Sam . . . shit.” Cutting Sam off and then shut up. Sniffling, Kurt placed a hand on Sam’s knee. He wiped the tear from his eye with the other.

Smiling, Sam tapped Kurt on the arm causing other boy to look back. ‘Kurt, when I saw that chubby kid toss you to the floor, it all crashed back on me. I ran but then I realized I may final find peace by meeting you and here we are.”

The heart painfully fluttered. “How do . . . I . . . don’t know what to say.”

“Say you will . . .”

“Sam?”

“Come back and sing. Your voice might be higher pitched than Mark, but it’s stunning.” The look on Sam’s face shifted as his brow crinkled. 

“Sam . . . I don’t know . . .” Kurt’s heart fell as he struggled to find the words and the wild look in Santana’s eyes.

His head moving to one side and Sam glanced up.


	6. Procreation

Lieutenant Sylvester paced with her hands behind. Her face looked pensive and a little annoyed. Every so often she glanced at Sub-lieutenants Pillsbury and Owens. The two subordinates stood close together talking to one another. A number of crew members waited in the back ground and the aisles of the huge area. The call to assembly came without warning about two in the afternoon Earth Standard Time.

As the teenagers filed into the multi-purpose auditorium, Kurt watched from the upper bank of seating. Mr. Shu moved along the front of the raised upper deck of seating opposite him. The likeable officer stopped and chatted to people. One of the engineers strolled along the walkway behind the seats away from shadows obscuring him. The huge mechanism used to lift and lower the stadium seating arched down over his head and into the thick rib supporting it. Sticking to the edges allowed the gathering teenagers to pass him by. He did not want to be here.

Blue eyes moved here and there. Rachel, Brittany, Mercedes and Santana would be mingled around out there somewhere. Their words still stung and he wished to avoid them. If he ran into Sam by himself, Kurt would definitely consider sitting with him. A start, he continued to have reservations about the others. Rachel and Brittany had possibilities. Mercedes remained a question but Santana, the jury leaned toward a guilty verdict.

The conversation with Sam left him sleepless. Harrying him into the early morning hours, the bags under his eyes attested to this fact. His legs felt weak and he walked with a hand against the railing. Rousing himself for the day had been an unenthusiastic matter. He even threw on his uniform. He just wanted to blend in.

By eyeball it looked as if most of the kids had filtered into the large space. Sighing, Kurt knew he would have to find a seat. Glancing about, he slowly moved along the last section until he found something. Three rows down, he made his way down the line of collapsible seats stepping around feet and knees along the way. Pushing the seat down and lowered himself down into it. Extending his feet out under the seat in front of him, Kurt slouched down as far as he could. Heavy eyelids pulled down but females surrounded him exuberantly chatted in high pitched tones that would easily hide his voice. The nearest head of short hair had to be a couple of hundred people away where two boys sat side by side.

Letting out a noiseless sigh, fatigue tugged at tired muscles. Maybe he could nap or perhaps not.

“. . . was amazing,” the chunky redhead seated to Kurt’s right stated. She leaned in toward Kurt as if he did not exist. Adorned in some colourful outfit of her own making Kurt could have laughed. In his opinion awful described it best. But then, most modern stuff verged on the ludicrous.

The brunette on Kurt’s other side shook her head. She pushed the modern version of sensibilities in a more reserved manner. “I really don’t know why we are doing it, Susan.”

“I’m enjoying it.”

“But?”

“Think about it.”

“Urr . . . it gets us a few perks.”

“I would say so.”

“Yeah.”

“The looks from some of the jocks.”

Sliding further down into his seat, falling asleep became Kurt’s number one priority. The body relaxed and the eyes closed into slits but the manner in which his neighbours ignored his presence made sleep and futile act. He wanted to leave but knew if he did there would be hell to pay. Lieutenant Sylvester regularly tore strips out of people who irritated her. Karofsky’s compatriots got their fair share and that pleased the groggy boy.

“Think of the competition, Betty. We can pick . . .” Susan suddenly shut her mouth.

Kurt noted the abrupt stop and then the giggling that followed. They probably laughed at him. Karofsky got his kicks by spreading all sorts of shit about Kurt and others. The slurs spread beyond Twenty One. Now and then, Kurt traveled afar to help with the maintenance of the water systems of the atriums. He met a few nice people this way but the slanders preceded him. On Eleven, someone slugged him after calling him something Kurt did not know the meaning of. Sub-lieutenant Schuester came to pick him up from the infirmary. After conversations with Jake, Mr. Shu determined Kurt needed supervision when he traveled to other habitation landers.

Susan suddenly said, “Take that big fellow?”

“The chucky one?” Betty sounded a bit confused.

“I think his name is David.”

Kurt rolled his eyes.

“Yeah.” Betty drooled.

“You’re right,” Susan said in hushed tones, “a little flabby but he’s one of the cool ones.”

“Puckerman has been making the rounds.”

“And he’s isn’t exactly a troll.”

“Yeah, right.”

“What about Chris?”

“Bobby’s fine.”

“And the tall one . . . what’s his name?”

“Finn?”

“Yup.”

“He’s a bit quiet but I’ve been told he’s . . .”

The girl’s snickered.

Sinking deeper into his seat, a hand came up and two fingers rubbed Kurt’s forehead. A burning sensation grew in the pit of Kurt’s stomach below his ribs. He had been feeling discomfort there for several weeks now. It flared when he ate certain foods or got stressed. Pressing his hand against that part of his abdomen sort of comforted.

Susan pressed closer to Kurt. “Their forming some sort of sports league. All the landers will be involved.”

Trying to pull away proved hard. Betty leaned in and Kurt swore he felt the bump of a nipple. He wished they would just leave him alone.

“We’ll be able to watch if we make it.” Betty’s voice rose.

“Cheerios!” Susan’s arm crossed Kurt’s chest as if he did not sit between them. Her hand slapped up against Betty’s.

“Cheerios!” Betty rubbed her chest over Kurt’s shoulder.

Tired of it, Kurt started to pull himself up. Dealing with a deranged officer would be more fun than remaining sandwiched between these two bimbos.

“The lieutenant is doing auditions on Monday,” Susan said to Betty. Her spit landed on Kurt’s cheek.

Bouncing up and down, Betty purred, “Yup. This is going to be fun. You think some of the guys will be there.”

“I hope so. Would like to see who we get to ogle.” Susan leaned back in her chair.

Betty hovered closer as she reached out to tap the other girl on the arm. Kurt saw her eyes go to him making him feel uncomfortable. Reversing direction, he slouched down further so that his knees banged up against the back of the chair in front of him. Eyes darting back and forth he began to feel anxious. Everything closed in about him. Beads of sweat rolled down his back. The pulse in his neck pounded. Somewhere deep down he wished he could die. Then someone new arrived on stage pulling his thoughts away from self-destruction. Commander Figgins, the officer of in charge of Landers Eighteen through Twenty Four walked through an open door. Strolling toward Lieutenant Sylvester, sub-lieutenants stepped closer.

“Alright, kiddies, time to get the show started,” Lieutenant Sylvester’s voice reverberated in Kurt’s ears through the speakers in the back of his seat. “Pry your pipsqueak minds away from useless gossip and pay attention.”

The sound about Kurt died away even though the two girls giggled and passed little stories about the jocks.

Giving into his immediate fate, Kurt rolled his eyes. Tried and cranky, he pulled his thought back to the only pleasure he had today—he sang. It came to him in the wee hours of the morning when he tried to force himself to sleep. The conversation with Sam had his mind and emotions doing summersaults. At some point, he knew not when, his eyes slid closed for longer than a few seconds and a flash of hazel to dance across the edge of his sight. What ifs and this could have been never salved anything but the warmth he felt brought a period of absolute calm. Natural sleep took him. Waking at some time later he lay there feeling safe. Before he knew it soothing music escaped a willing throat.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rhGWC4yq_Yg)

_Oh yeah, I'll tell you something_  
_I think you'll understand_  
_When I'll say that something_  
_I wanna hold your hand_  
_I wanna hold your hand_  
_I wanna hold your hand_

_Oh please, say to me_  
_You'll let me be your man_  
_And please, say to me_  
_You'll let me hold your hand_  
_Now let me hold your hand_  
_I wanna hold your hand_

_And when I touch you I feel happy_  
_Inside_  
_It's such a feeling that my love_  
_I can't hide_  
_I can't hide_  
_I can't hide_

_Yeah, you've got that something_  
_I think you'll understand_  
_When I'll say that something_  
_I wanna hold your hand_  
_I wanna hold your hand_  
_I wanna hold your hand_  
_I wanna hold your hand._

The words vibrated through is body. His mother found an old completion album and sang it to him to put him to sleep. After his mother died, Kurt played it over and over again not out of sadness but for what it represented—the love of a father. The day of her cremation, Burt’s hand in his meant so much. Little did he know a few years later that hand would never be felt again. A longing son always held his father’s right. If felt so natural.

The surge of warm sentiment allowed him to drift back to sleep until the chirping of the alarm woke him. When he eyes opened he smiled—he had dreamt. Yes, for the first time in days he his mind allowed such a lovely distraction. Well, to be honest, Kurt recalled enough of it to revel in the sensations. The smells seemed real and the sounds echoed within his mind as if he has been standing in the trees. The lushness of the hills spoke of a time when the Earth had been green and good. The slope rolled down to a narrow gravel road with high hedges behind a low stone wall. A carriage pulled by two horses sat on the lane, the bows of a huge lush tree flowing over it. Constant rivulets dribbled from a wide brimmed hat and down onto the driver’s leather overcoat. Protected from the downpour by wood and glass, a woman leaned back watching the hill. Two men in clothes no seen since the early eighteen hundreds strolled a few feet apart up the hill. They talked in sad, longing tones.

The emotion exuded by the two men shocked Kurt. They caressed through him in gentle waves giving it an odd substance. A shudder raced up Kurt’s back. Dream, yes. Reality . . . no. He knew the difference but that sprig of colour caused his heart to stall in a good way. The sorrow of two men dug into his chest.

The sensations and imaged struck him so hard Kurt dictated the experience into his personal account. He wanted it for his own but he had no illusions the powers-that-be would be able to access them. He did not care. All the bullying made him care less and less for his fellow man. Then a surprise like Sam came along. The pouty blond boy made him look at aspects of himself he ran from.

Sam? Part of him longed to go find him but then the fear held him fast. Words . . . they had only been words. A groan escaped Kurt’s throat as emotion rolled down to the pit of his stomach. Thin lips pulled to one side as he pressed his back flat into chair as Betty press ever closer. Reality sucked but he endured. On The Arc, like Earth, those who thought they had privilege fed upon those denied privilege. With no illusion as to his place on the ladder. Kurt had to start somewhere.

“Silence!” the word echoed about the great hall. Some of the kids jumped when the speakers in the seats pieced their ears. Murmurs remained.

Justice. Kurt secretly chuckled to himself. Susan squealed like one of the pigs Sam had shown him. On the farm Kurt rarely saw the livestock. He worked mostly on the machines that up in the orchards.

“You all now our illustrious Commander Higgins. He as some words of wisdom for you. So listen close and find enlightenment.” Lieutenant Sylvester pointed.

The balding, dark skinned man in his early fifties smiled at Wacky Sue as he stepped forward. Raising his hand as if to wave he looked his jovial self. At least that is what Kurt thought of him. The mild mannered fellow played by the rules and occasionally wandered about the landers looking in on the twelve thousand teenagers under his supervision. The questions he asked told Kurt he cared about the welfare of those under his wing. In his way he tried to get to know each and every one of them. To Kurt’s surprise he addressed him by name the first time they met. It impressed the boy. It did not dawn on him until later Higgins might have downloaded the manifest of the passengers to his implant.

Behind the commander of landers eighteen to twenty four, the large curving wall flickered with an image of those on stage. Split five similar auditoriums filled with teenagers appeared. The scenes changed as if cameras panned the crowd. Three officers stood on the stages of the other five landers. A sixth image focused on the commander.

“Children,” Higgins said. He has an accent that made him sound almost exotic. “The time has come for certain myths to be dispelled.”

A rumbling passed over the room.

Lieutenant Sylvester yelled. “Silence!”

Betty jumped causing Kurt snicker.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Sylvester, you are as straightforward as always.” The commander gave his subordinate a look. Turning around he faced the back wall. Eventually he made a full circle. “Children, I am speaking to all landers on this spoke at the same time. A little over half a year ago we started the wake up cycle and that meant we approached our final destination we started out for two centuries ago.”

Young voices rose and fell. Higgin held up his hand as if preventing Wacky Sue from pouncing. The commander then held up both hands until hundreds of teenage voices died away. Kurt found this interesting. The man had a certain level of charisma that mostly went unseen. In a crowd it shined.

“At last I can reveal our destination,” the commander went on. “We are headed for Mu Arae, a solar system fifty one light years from Earth. In two thousand and six Mu Arae B was discovered. In two thousand one hundred and forty three a probe was launched to study the solar system. In two thousand two hundred and seven the probe reported back finding a planet with water and obvious plant life. Forty years before this vessel set forth, a series of relay beacons and probes revealed the planet had an Earth like atmosphere and eco-system.”

More chit chat and again Higgin patiently waited. Side stepping he said something to Sub-lieutenant Pillsbury.

For some reason Kurt held his breath. Waves of excitement and fear swelled around the room like a building storm. The commander did not seem to be in any rush to press on. He allowed the teenagers to express themselves. This hit Kurt as curious. The last time they had one of the mass meetings there held everything carefully in check

A dark hand went up again and the mumbling decreased. “We are now under five years from destination.”

Again, muttering and tolerance from the stage.

“Now children, the truth. Many of you were angry and of course sad but you are all orphans.” Higgins spread his arms wide indicating the adult crew. “We’re all orphans.”

Sitting up he now paid full attention. Susan cussed when his shoulder pushed her upright in her seat. Down on stage the officers and crew glanced at one another as if the admission had come as a complete surprise. Only Lieutenant Sue looked unaffected. In fact she glared at her superior.

Holding up his hands, Commander Higgins waited. “Yes, I am an orphan I grew up in one of the industrial complexes. All the crew came from one of the corporate slave pits. The Foundation found us as they found you.”

Kurt pushed his lips together. It made sense.

Higgins went on, “As you know the Foundation is not part of the corporate state nor is it political or military. It is made up of people who desire a life other than the one the corporations intended for us. The Foundation came into being seventy years ago with a mandate is to perpetuate a dream of freedom and to protect human life. Earth is no longer part of that picture.”

Gasps raced about Kurt followed by wild talk. All Kurt could think about rotated about one word—freedom. Whispering it caused people to disappear. Outside of the privileged areas the idea of human rights had long been expunged. Technological barriers separating two very different ways of life. In one people enjoyed an extended life span, ample leisure time, abundant and real food, education, health and vast tracks of natural lands surrounding splendid cities. Those who did not belong existed totally at the pleasure of those who owned them. The corporate elite did not actually work but rather indentured those who made the wealth for them. Once a week newborns would be auctioned and then marked with an implant. Some became luckier than others and lived in the semi-protected zones set aside for those inferiors the corporate types deemed important to the survival.

Roughly eighty five percent of the human population dwelt outside the protected zones with a standard of living that had not increased over the past century. Life expectancy tumbled and with the denial of resources hope of better life eluded most. Extermination had become the standard response to uprisings and strikes. Fear and survival dictated everything. The chaos caused by the flooding of most of the world’s major cities bank rolled the corporate climb to global and solar system wide domination.

Walking along the front of the stage, Higgins continued to speak. “All the senior officers and the councilors are members of the Foundation. Our function is to prepare you.”

Sylvester suddenly turned and glared at Sub-lieutenant Pillsbury. All the crew did. Kurt found this both amusing and concerning. He leaned forward enthralled with the speech. The girls grumbled. Kurt snickered.

“As you may have noted, over the past couple of months the curriculum has been ramped up,” the commander carried on. “This is to ensure that all of you know the skills you will need when we reach Mu Arae B.”

Low, angry murmuring erupted about Kurt.

Higgins plodded on. “Three years ago, three smaller and faster craft departed this vessel headed for our new home. Along the way they dropped relay buoys making communications easier. A month before we woke you they reported back they had found landing zones.”

“The survey took less time than we expected. It has been decided to accelerate the time table by one year. You will all need to be able to do what will be required when we get there. By that time you will be young adults and together you will be exploring and developing a whole new world.” Higgins paused as the chatter grew.

Blinking, Kurt found it hard to breath. His chin hanging down, he could not believe it. Young bodies twisted around in their seats as people looked about. His thoughts went in a different direction. Excitement came from the fact the world had not been explored by humans. Did it have life similar to Earth or completely different? Would they find intelligent life? What did the advance team report? These are the things he wanted to know.

Louder than before, Wacky Sue called out, “Hold you tongues!”

Silence eventually came.

“You,” Higgins’ arms went wide. “We, were all chosen because we have no family and little hope. We lived lives in squalor. You, we, all have a sense of . . . self. The corporations despise that word because it would doom their dictatorial control. Unlike those branded as terrorists, the Foundation decided to make their protests peaceful and largely unseen. This ship, The Arc, was built with the full knowledge of the corporations. In fact they funded it. However, they knew nothing of our real purpose. They believed we journeyed to Alpha Centauri. Well, we fooled them.”

Higgins stopped expecting another loud round of youthful voices. He received mostly stunned silence. “As I speak to you the commanders of the other spokes are speaking to those under their care. You need to know and the crew have been instructed to answer your questions to the best of their ability. Understand, there may be things they may not be able to answer. In such cases feel free to contact myself or your lieutenant with your concerns.”

Some of the teenagers laughed. Even from a distance Kurt noted the look on Higgins’ face as he glanced to the lander’s ranking officer. Turning to face that side of the auditorium, the commander went on. “I know one question you must have all been thinking of . . . why the ratio of female to male? The answer is easy, genetic diversity. Prior to or after we land, it is expected that each male will have had a child from nine females.”

Uproar. Some whooped, some gasped, some remained utterly silent but a general melee ensued. Down on stage the officers and crew remained calm as if this had been expected. Kurt slammed back into his seat. Sex? Women? Children? Gods?

Teens revealed a menagerie of emotions. When a fight broke out in the lower levels several of the crew waded in. The manner in which Wacky Sue handled it shocked all. Five girls went at it as others chanted. Forcing her way into the madness, the lieutenant grabbed the first aggressor she came across and spun the combatant around slapping her across the face. The berating that followed would turn into a classic. She used such profound and pointed descriptors she put the entire audience in their places. Regardless of his numbness, Kurt had to admit, Wacky Sue had a way of getting attention. It took a little while longer to bring calm to the other five landers.

With the return of civil normalcy, Commander Higgins introduced Sub-Lieutenant Owen’s who then started to discuss, in graphic detail, the need for genetic diversity. To make her point when she demonstrated what happened to monkeys after generations of inbreeding. Then she got into the benefits and the need to increase the diversity of the human race. She talked about the corporate programs to fool evolution through selective breeding amongst the elite.

Kurt cringed. His eyes darted about noting the expression of those around him. Some looked disgusted but then the look on Susan’s face provided a mirror to how some of them thought. The more the sub-lieutenant talked the brighter her look began. Kurt swore he saw the gears moving. Betty on the hand looked more concerned telling Kurt she followed rather than led.

What followed ended up to be a dawn out question and answer period. Still, he could not believe the things he heard. Porcelain white skin became paler. He could actually fell his chest moving as the blood pumped through his body. Fuck!

Emotions rose and fell throughout the six landers. The officers responded with complete honesty, at least Kurt felt they did. The adrenaline raced through his body defeated the fatigue h suffered. Then the money question came from Lander Nineteen. Their lieutenant of that lander bluntly announced there would be a lottery. A short lived firestorm ensued. A semblance of peace came when the images on the wall at the back of the stage changed to reveal the face of The Arc’s ranking officer. Fluffy, two inch long, dark curls surrounded a youthful oval face. Thick bushy brows filled in the space over lush eyelashes flashing over naturally tan toned skin. Full, pink lips moved as the captain spoke.

“May I have your attention,” the captain’s deep, almost musical voice reverberated through the speakers built into the seating. He waited for calm. “Colonists, certain truths have been revealed this day. We know this was not the right way to do it but it had to be done. For that I apologized. When this all started, the planners discussed what you are now voicing in great length. They spoke to experts and orphans including the crew. All of you have been chosen not because of your knowledge or skills but for the strength of your genes.”

Ok god, Kurt mouthed to himself. Genes? If they wanted breeders they must have screwed up somewhere. His eyes remained looked on the screen. Young voices rose all around him.

“I know this is a lot to take in all at once.’ The captain went on. “As you have been told, the senior officers and the councilors are members of the Foundation. Our task is to prepare you for what is to come. The senior officers and I need you to understand the seriousness of what will be asked of you. However, we are not insensitive to your emotions. There will be no lottery. Teenagers will be teenagers and things will happen by themselves. There are already a number of pregnancies on board.”

Shocked chatter. Kurt’s mouth dropped and his fingers dug into his palms. Rolling his head, he scanned the flock of girls surrounding him. Fourteen and fifteen years of age, they looked horrified, numb and in some cases elated. The revelation proved what Kurt had always thought—they played a numbers game. Five thousand to forty five thousand, nature would take care of most of it for them. Urges would led to what they wanted in the end as the need to have a baby encroached on every girl. A young man’s desire to sew his oats would control that side of the coin. Maybe he would be safe?

Looking up toward the ceiling Kurt shook his head. A blunt reply and then a soothing counter offer, Kurt felt the subtly in his heart. Now that he thought of it, they had been manipulating them for weeks now. The subject of monogamy had been broached in the most carefree way—discussions about the biology of lesser life forms. The instructors cleverly weaved human nature, ethics and morals into their lessons. Kurt doubted most even realized.

The look on the captain’s handsome face showed he understood the wide range of sentiment caressing the habitation modules. Backed by a field of stars with one brighter than the rest, he waited before carrying on. “Today is Thursday. You are excused from all classes and work until Monday.”

A murmur passed through the crowd. The screen faded and an audible click echoed through the large chamber and the doors slid open. Almost immediately a roar of voices made it almost impossible to think as teenagers considered their revised future.

Stunned, Kurt sat there for as the people in his row piled out. The noise deafened. Jarred by all the bodies pressing by him he did not react. He did not really know what to do. Sam came to mind and then the others. How did they react? Lowering his head, he suddenly felt guilty. He should have been with them to share this.

Letting out a sigh, Kurt‘s chest heaved out and then deeply deflated. Biting his upper lip, he closed his eyes and speckling hazel fluttered across the back of his eyelids. A pulse deep in the heart echoed down in his scrotum. Both pleasing and embarrassed, he felt the heat rise in his skin.

Someone jarred and his eyes popped open. He felt suddenly tired and dizzy. An ache erupted behind his eyes. No classes or work. Great he could catch up on his sleep but then, would he. Regret pulled at him. He needed companionship. Deep down in his stomach he knew he would not survive it he did not give in. He growled and lowered his head.

Sitting there for the longest time, Kurt finally let out a sigh. Pushing himself up out of the seat and slowly walked toward the end of the row. Placing his hand on the back of the last chair he looked down into the virtually empty auditorium. A number of teenagers mingled about in clusters or singles sat here and there. A larger group gathered about Sub-lieutenant’s Pillsbury and Owen at the edge of the stage.

Frowning, Kurt headed for the stairs and slowly made his way to the bottom. When he reached the landing that marked the half way point, hands slamming into his shoulders pushing him forward. Smashing into the railing, he grabbed it. At the same time a boot bashed into the back of his leg right beneath the knee. Agony roared up the thigh and down to the foot. Collapsed to the metal deck, he attempted to grasp his leg just a boot crashed into his ass pushing him onto the railing. Face pressed against the inflexible support a fist struck his neck. Dragging his legs to his chest to protect himself, someone tried to pull at them. In an instant something hard crashed into his face he heard a crack. Screaming, blood washed down into his eyes. Through the red haze he caught sight of long blond hair and then a fist smash into his cheek. A tooth cut into his skin.

Hard objects repeatedly smashed into his stomach and sides. Then agony beyond anything he experienced thus far rolled up through his body. Howling with pain, with all his strength he curled into the fetal position. Renewed torture washed over him as his fingers tightened against his stinging manhood.

A fist hammered into his back jolting kidneys as two people pulled at his legs and arms. With all his strength Kurt resisted by pulling himself tightly into a ball. Instinctively Kurt prepared himself and then he suddenly heard a male voice calling out from above. Boots struck metal stairs and then two male argued. A scuffled broke out and shrill female voices yelled. Someone landed hard with loud grunt. From below an accented female voice joined his defender. Kurt recognized it. Hands released his aching body and hurried feet stomped away. Someone dropped beside him and a boy yelled for help. Raised, adult voices responded.


	7. New Beginnings

The body reacted to the agony forced upon it. Self-preservation took center stage discarding the meanderings of the mind and emotion. Cascading shards of pain rolled through the muscles around an inflamed scrotum up to the throbbing below the eyes. Coughing up blood translated into torturous waves deep below the stomach. Nerve endings thumped within a frail mind creating a morass of epic proportions. Then a sudden sharp prick and everything drifted in some strange place far away from reality. Life itself seemed to fall away into the abyss.

Nothingness removed all the functions of logic and survival. Time and space meant nothing until a tiny spark bloomed in the darkness. A little amber node effortless moved around in the corner of a sealed eye. One became many as small beads of honey brown hues separated from the first. Coalescing into fine, visibly pulsating disks the internal structure became affectionate, translucent eyes. Surging with the wild panting of someone close to the cliff, the orbs soothed as if someone stroked skin.

Shades of grey pressed in upon colour as the mind floated off again. Smothered, but not completely diminished, the little orbs hung on. Probing the profound nature of the gloom they discovered some place where a seed found soil. Roots spread out from this tiny point of brilliance. Miniature filaments weaved between the cracks of darkness lacing themselves about a frail heart.

The body reacted to the subtle inroads. Segments of the brain flared reminding the intellect of the stark reality it found itself in. Hazel embers mollified the fear. Without the awareness of the brain primal urges continued to play nasty games. Sharp pains shot here and there. Some raced form head to foot and others found themselves diluted by the chemicals caressing veins.

Carefully thin hazel strands wrapped about the bodies pump. The touch sent a shiver through the nervous system bringing mindfulness to the darkness. Faint memories flashed creating words within the dim. A name erupted within corrupted thoughts . . . Kurt. Yes, he remembered that much. Slowly the coils of delusion loosened allowing other things to pop out of the dim. Each little nugget created sustained thought and recent discomfort. Flesh hit flesh accompanies by yelling and screaming. People kicked at him. People argued over him. Different individuals called out and helped.

Soft and nourishing hazel mists brought calm to a terrified consciousness. Where the body had stiffened to defend itself, it now relaxed. The frantic drumming of the heart perceived faint, musical tremors. This trembling permeated through the fibers enveloping the heart. The cells pumping blood tingled until the sensation harmonized. The vibration moved through nerves finding what it needed at the base of the ear. There it became a low, haunting sound that morphed into an emotional male voice raised in song.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-WKn6Z4Oxng)

_Nothing's gonna harm you_  
_Not while I'm around_

_Nothing's gonna harm you_  
_No sir, not while I'm around_

_Being close and being clever_  
_Ain't like being true_

_I don't need to, I would never_  
_Hide a thing from you_

_Like some_  
_Demons'll charm you with a smile_

_For a while_  
_But in time_

_Nothing can harm you_  
_Not while I'm around_

Suffering slackened bringing a sense of relief the mind perceived. The soft, caring words echoed through an injured form like a tonic. The will returned and the body fought back allowing the mind to feel motion. Skin tingled and discomfort subsided. Tension fell away into an ugly memory.

Kurt heard something close by. It beeped and then faded into the ongoing battle with the darkness that held the majority of his bodily functions in abeyance. Something touched him. Warm, it moved his arm ever so slightly. An odd sensation prickled skin creating a heightened sense of being awake. For a second he knew he lay on his back with a tube sticking into his arm. Something covered his body providing a certain level of comfort. His mom came to mind along with a happy memory of the woman whispering in his ear. Tiny puffs of air represented words. Strangely Kurt smelt something he did not know. Some distant, obscure part of him called it coffee. It rolled across his face in easy wafts mirroring beating hazel.

Breath stalled and for a split second logic lost hold on the mind. The heart skipped a beat but in a good way. The soft lyrics conjured up the misty form of a boy standing at the bottom of curving stairs gazing up at another boy a few steps up. Longing radiated between them as if the soul knew but the body did not. Insubstantial flesh met reality in the most pleasant manner followed by awkward running. Moments later the voice of an angel rose within a crowded room. A puff of air altered a fragile existance. Hues of grey folding up from the cushions of a couch. The inconsistent shape of a face hovered so close Kurt swore he felt strands of hair caressed his cheek. Loving words whispered just out of reach. Unknown sentiment rose in the center of the chest.

Smells and sounds faded as awaking mind gained control. Emotion wanted it to last forever but strong lucidity demanded the secession of fantasy. Swirling within the darkness, hazel retreated but never really vanished. Final tones pronounced echoing words—I honestly thought that I would never find real love.

Kurt’s heart jumped as the words flowed into an odd perception. Something cuddled up beside him providing a deep sense of security. Fighting against an awakening mind, this thing hung there on some ethereal branch touching a battered body forever reminding—right in left.

Light stirred thought and Kurt became cognizant he no longer cowered from the agony of boots and fists striking him. Now he suffered the numb aftermath of the terrible ordeal. Swelling fear gripped his heart causing its stroking to spike. Something beeped next to him and once more he felt the places where a tube entered veins. The chest heaved and the heart wished this had never happened. Whispering passion moved him in a manner he found hard to understand. Waking in the pod came to mind.

The jolt of the brain shifting into gear removed any hope he could linger in that soft and safe existance. The body woke and with it that soothing hazel faded away into drug induced clouds. A boy blinked when he recognized the effect and damned its interruption. Passion told him everything he ever wanted in life dwelt somewhere beyond the clouds. Logic informed him it had just been some outlandish hallucination.

Disappointed, Kurt drew in two hard breaths and his eyes popped open. Bright light shone down upon him from the sides. Squinted at the sharpness luminance he turned his head away. Fuzzy vision zoomed in on the pattern of the ceiling high overhead. Stark and uninviting, glossy white on shades of light grey became his world. The uneven nature of the surface provided indications of conduits and rails. Emotion desired amber-brown.

Easy discomfort raced through his cheek when he blinked. The bone protecting the eyes had cracked but now it felt perfectly fine. The right side of his lip pulled up into a half smile. He felt only slight distress but then he froze. A wisp of hazel overlapped with grey briefly flashed within his mind. The smile spread wider.

Rolling his eyes Kurt found it hard to focus. He lay still for a while longer waiting for clarity. What he did see looked to be beyond anything he remembered as a child or at the farm. Metal, retractable arms held things he did not recognize. A long bar with a curving glass surface appeared in a locked in position a couple of feet behind his head. The bed he lay in conformed to his body. He found the sensation odd. Memory showed him flat, metal gurneys on wheels.

At the age of six he broke his arm resulting in eight weeks of enduring a cast. Medicine for those who did not have privilege changed little over the past century and a half. The crush of the disaster climate change forced on the human race did not help the common people. Hundreds of millions perished in the chaos. The hastily erected walls meant to protect the low lands did not hold past the turn of the twenty second century. Environmental upheaval created conditions for the perfect storm. In the late twenty one hundreds a massive hurricane spun up in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Winds gusting to five hundred miles an hour smashed into Florida and then racing up the eastern seaboard. Human ingenuity could not hold against the raw force the Earth could produce.

Storms like that became the norm forcing the mass evacuation of the coasts. Over the next hundred years the severity of the weather stabilized allowing the human race to catch its breath. Hurricanes in all oceans, drowning rains and massive tornados inland proved the weakness of government. The turmoil allowed the corporations to rise to power.

Warmth spread through his body from underneath as if the bed radiated heat. The single tube pressed into his through a bracelet on his left arm and machine it attached did not look familiar. Several lights flashed on the flexible plastic band. The soft mattress curved up about him to a height equal to his shoulders. The light green blanket covering felt unlike anything he had felt before. A curving partition protruded out from the flush wall separating him from a similar unit next to him. No one occupied it.

Someone moving close by caused Kurt to stir. Head turning to the left his eyes opened up to see the back side of a long, light blue coat. A dark skinned man studied the computer panel embedded into the curving wall between him and the next section.

“Good, you’re awake,” a female voice said from the other side.

Glancing that way, Kurt squinted as Sub-lieutenant Owen came into focus. She stood a quarter turn away from the bed with her head shifted toward the boy. Wearing the same blue coat, she had been speaking to someone out of view. Disoriented, Kurt felt his face contort.

“Stay calm, Kurt.” Doctor Owen advised. A pleasant smile spread her lips as she swiveled to face the bed head on. She stepped closer.

The boy looked about and then he swallowed hard.

“You’re going to be alright,” The sub-lieutenant touched something on the wall beside her and a display changed. “We put you under for a couple of days to allow the healing process to accelerate.”

“What?” Kurt croaked. The dryness of his throat made it hard to speak.

“Hubert, will you please get some water,” Owen said to the technician on the other side of the bed.

“Let me.” A deep voice came from the other side of the separator behind the doctor.

Kurt heard running water and then a man stepped out from behind the doctor holding a clear glass in his hand. Not more than five foot nine or ten tall, curls of matted dark hair fell about his oval face. Wearing the uniform of an officer, the insignia gave his position away. Kurt’s eyelids fluttered.

Walking around the doctor, the officer in command of the Arc, approached the bed and touched something on its side. Kurt’s torso slowly rose.

Surprised, the stricken boy stared at the captain with a combination of disbelief and curiosity. Long lashes and fluffy, brown brows circled soft eyes. Kurt’s mind flooded with images of grey cloud forming a human body. The right side of that misty face curled up into a smirk. Eyes twinkled brightly and then it froze. Everything felt wrong and then the proof—grey blue eyes.

“Here, drink this,” the captain said as he gently lifted Kurt’s head so that he could drink.

Unable to control himself, Kurt gulped down the liquid and began to cough. Rolling away from the officer he sputtered into the side of his bed. During the assembly the sight of the man pulled on strings so deep Kurt felt utterly astounded. Now, the sight of the man caught him completely off guard. Foolish shame rolled through his body. The mind laughed but emotion confidently stated—not the one.

The ranking officer placed a hand on Kurt’s shoulder. “Take it easy.”

The body shuddered forcing the eyes shut. Hazel immediately returned along with that odd vibration in his ears. Again, he heard faint words—I honestly thought that I would never find real love.

“Kurt?” the captain asked. His brow crinkled up as his head tilted to the left.

Coughing, the boy spread out on the bed turned toward the officer. Blue eyes flickered and his face revealed dissatisfaction.

“He’s still coming out of it, sir,” Owen commented. She walked down the edge of the bed opposite the captain. Reaching over she gently picked up Kurt’s arm and glanced at the bracelet. “Do you remember what happened, Kurt?”

Facing the doctor, Kurt openly shuddered. He did not want to speak about it. “Yes.”

From the other side of the bed, the captain shook his head. “Will there be any long lasting effects, doctor?”

“Physically no,” Owen stated. “We’ve repaired everything and there will be no long lasting damage from the trauma other than psychological.”

“Pillsbury will be making herself available.” Concern flashed across the captain’s face.

Kurt’s chest tightened. “You didn’t expect this?”

The captain’s face twisted. “Why would you say that?”

‘A sharp breath escaped Kurt’s lips. “You wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t come out of left field.”

“He’s perceptive, captain.” Owen turned and checked on a display to her right.

The ranking officer pulled his lips together as he nodded.

The look on the captain’s face hit Kurt as odd.

Noting the appearance of boy’s face, the captain inquired, “You’re a loner, aren’t you Kurt?”

Damn, the truth hurt and answering became difficult. Kurt suddenly regretted his statement.

Smiling, the captain said, “It’s alright Kurt. If it helps, I’m a loner. Doing what I do has forced me out of my shell but I find I need my alone time. I think it’s healthy.”

“Can I have some more water?” Kurt almost pleaded as his brows furrowed.

The captain grinned and took the glass from Kurt.

The battered boy watched the officer turn away. He did not know what to think. Obscure thoughts made Kurt feel more than a little uneasy. Something about this man moved him in the way he did comprehend? In some odd manner it felt as if somehow knew him, but how? The mind overlaid the captain’s face with a misty form making the whole thing more than a little bit disturbing. Hesitant, unrealized wishes accompanied what the hazel characterized. With the world about him falling apart the spark of colour gave him hope. At the assembly it came to him not as a crash but rather a slow flow of desire. Now Kurt felt stupid. Maybe he had just made it up as a way of escaping the miseries of his life.

“You spend a lot of time in the atriums,” the captain commented as he stepped around the corner to the water dispenser. The divider hid half his body.

Regarding the man Kurt found the comment disconcerting. His brows pulled together. From this angle he noted the texture of the skin about the captain’s hair line. Wrinkles rejected the previous deliberations. Bright light struck down from above revealing grey in the hair over the ear. But he looked so young?

“Yes,” Kurt croaked and then cleared his throat. “I look after the water systems.”

“You’re having a hard time?” The captain walked back over and handed Kurt the class.

Taking the water, Kurt swallowed a couple of drafts. Peering over the rim he gazed up at the officer. “Yes.”

The captain nodded. “You really do not know who I am.”

“No.” Kurt stared at the officer with a perplexed looked and then sipped on the water.

“My name is Karl Degras. I came from France but lived most of my life in one of the complexes in the Philippines.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I want you to know you are not alone. I only found comfort when the Foundation recruited me and then it took a while. Birth handed me a life with few expectations beyond working twelve hours days.”

“I can’t pretend I understand what is really going on but then I find it exciting. If it means all of us can have a better life, then I’m not going to argue. My parents died trying to make a good life.”

“My mother died and I do not know where or how. My dad fell into a mess with the gangs.”

“Everything we have been taught over the past few months makes me wonder why . . . well that does not matter anymore.”

The captain nodded and then asked in all sincerity. “Do you have any idea why they attacked you?”

Biting his upper lip Kurt rolled his eyes down so that he looked at his feet. Different, came to mind but he knew but then it went further. The idea of speaking about it twisted his thoughts. Telling his dad had been hard enough. Why should he trust this person with something so private and painful? All his life he had to play a game. He called it the A B game. On one hand he pretended to be something he would never be. On the other hand he feared what he could be. Did he dress to be himself or something rebellious? Did he want to be cool? Honestly, no. Perhaps he had no idea what he wanted. Closer to the truth . . . yes . . . no. At times he believed he belonged in some other time and place. He loved the past. If he had the money and connections he would collect. Reality sucked. Since the cremation of his mother he sought something. With the death of his father he lost all confidence. Life rolled on but Kurt did not drive the bus.

“Kurt?” Karl asked.

Blue eyes glanced up. Water welled about them.

“You need not worry, Kurt,” the captain went on. “You are not the only one on this ship who feels as you do. We do not care about the fact your desires pull you in a different direction from what is considered normal. The Foundation did not select people to remove certain genetic traits from the pool. What you feel is all part of what it is to be human.”

A single eyebrow went up. Kurt found what he heard hard to follow. The words called to him but, at the same time, he feared. For so long he had lived a life of harassment alone. No one understood.

“Kurt,” the captain glanced at the doctor, “there are homosexual officers on board.”

“You?” Kurt froze. That put it all on the table.

A charming smiled etched itself across the captain’s face. “No, Kurt I’m not homosexual.”

“I am,” Doctor Owen admitted.

Blinking, Kurt’s stomach did a summersault. Another person like himself. How? Why? He stared at the doctor as if he did not believe what had been revealed. “What of all this talk of children?”

Grinning, Owen stepped closer to the side of the bed. “Kurt, my girlfriend and I have two children and there’s another on the way.”

“The need for children does not just fall on your young shoulders, Kurt.” The captain looked to Owen. “We all have our roles to play. I have four children born during this voyage.”

Puzzled, Kurt glanced from officer to officer. The mind fought with the idea. Statements made at the assembly petrified him. The idea of having children for the sack of having children made him feel highly uncomfortable.

“Captain, it might be best to leave this for the time being,” the doctor suggested.

Karl nodded.

“There’s been a few people asking about you, Kurt,” Doctor Owen changed the subject. She wandered about the medical bay checking on equipment and readouts.

Kurt’s head snapped that way. People asked? Sam? Santana? Gods, Kurt had all but forgotten. He heard her yelling at those beating him. Balling his left hand tightly nails dug into his palm. The skin on the inner side of his fingers felt as if it did not belong to him. For a second he thought of his father but the texture felt smooth and young. The pulse raced and the bracelet started to beep.

Leaning in the doctor placed a hand on both sides of Kurt’s face. Kurt did not resist as she turned his head to that she could look into his eyes. Gazing at the boys tears her eyes rolled toward the captain.

The senior officer stood up straight and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I think I am going to put you back to sleep again, Kurt,” the doctor gently said to the boy.

Shaking his head, Kurt’s heart cracked against his ribs. Red faced, he forced control of his emotions. He had to face it. To do nothing meant he lost or worse. He did not want worse. Drawing in a deep breath, he said in a quiet tone, “Can I see them?”

“You sure?” the doctor asked. She pulled her hands back and glanced at the bracelet.

Kurt nodded even though emotional pain spread through his chest. Eyeing the doctor up and down, he grinned. “I think I can sleep without the drugs.”

Owen smiled. “It’s better that way.”

Closing his eyes, Kurt found peace in the flittering presence of minute points of hazel. Two hours later Kurt woke when Sub-lieutenant Schuester softly spoke his name. His eyes flickered open accompanied by a strange look on his face.

The wavy haired officer smiled. “How you feeling, Kurt.”

“I’ve felt better.” Kurt reached up and rubbed his eyes.

“I’ve brought a few people to see you.” The junior officer smiled. With his head he indicated the group of teenagers standing just inside the door.

Rachel ran forward taking Kurt’s hand in his. Dark eyes welled up with emotion. “I’m so happy you are alright.”

A few paces behind Rachel, Brittany’s bright smile filled the room. “He’s a cute little puppy.”

Teenagers looked to her gorgeous blond. Kurt hesitated and then a huge smile lifted his spirits. Seeing genuine sentiment on Brittany’s face caused all sorts of things to surface within Kurt. Suddenly he began to cry.

“Hey, bro?” Sam questioned. In a few steps his hand gripped Kurt’s arm. Staring down at his friend he pulled his bottom lip over his upper lip. Water glistened in the blond boy’s eyes.

“Kurt?” Rachel moved closer as she would hug him.

Brittany stepped forward and then abruptly backed up against the wall.

Kurt’s eyes followed the blond girl. “Oh, Brittany, I missed you.”

A sweet smile pulled at Brittany’s mouth. The kiss she blew at Kurt caused Santana’s face to pull together.

“We all missed you, bro,” Sam admitted with soft smirk.

Sniffling, Kurt gazed at the only person he considered to be a friend, “Sam?”

“Kurt, we don’t have to go there.” Sam looked uncomfortable.

“Yes we do.” Kurt looked to teenagers standing around him. His face scrunched up when he eyes fell upon a tall boy who appeared out of place. “Finn?”

Everyone looked to the Beta. To Kurt’s surprise Santana said, “He got to your first.”

“What?” Kurt looked puzzled. He stared at the teenager who had been tormenting him.

Santana swaggered forward with her arms folded across her chest. “Yup. He pouched John.”

Shaking his head, Kurt remembered none of this.

“Kurt,” Mr. Shu interrupted. “Finn and Santana intervened before we even know anything happened.”

“It was brave.” Rachel blurt out. Her eyes went to Finn who stayed apart from the rest.

“Finn did most of it,” Sam added. “Santana tipped the scales.”

“But, Finn is one of . . .”

“He’s turned a new leaf.”

“Why would he?”

Sam glanced to Finn. “Perhaps it’s best he tells you.”

Having slouched down into the raised bed while he slept, Kurt pulled himself upright. Pain flashed across his face.

Rachel whispered. “Kurt?”

Waving her off, Kurt endured. His stomach and back hurt when he moved suddenly but for the most part he felt better. The discomfort he felt now and then between his legs caused concern. The doctor had told the captain there would be no lasting effects. The boy had to wonder. The first time he knackered himself, it stung like hell. This did not even come close.

Placing a hand on Kurt’s shoulder, Mr. Shu said, “I’m going to leave you. Doctor Owen is in her office and Sub-lieutenant Pillsbury will be around to see you before dinner.”

Nodding, Kurt watched Mr. Shu leave. The man stopped next to Finn and said something. The tall boy nodded.

Walking over to the bed, Mercedes smiled that big, cheerful smile of hers. “Kurt, we were all so worried about you.”

“Yeah, ever since . . .” Rachel started but the look on Sam’s face brought silence.

“It’s alright.” Painful emotion swelled within Kurt’s chest. The memory of angry words bounced here and there.

“No, it’s not,” Mercedes responded. “Kurt, we’ve been talking, especially since . . .”

“This.” Kurt pointed at himself. Afraid to look into a mirror he had to wander what kind of mess they had made of his beautiful face.

“I feel awful,” Brittany admitted. Wide blue eyes gazed down at Kurt. Standing in the background she looked perplexed.

“I don’t,” Santana blurt out. “Well, yes but not about that.”

“Santana?” Brittany scowled.

Eyes rolling, Kurt shook his head. An apology, even if provided with buts attached, had meaning from some people. Beggars could not be choosers.

Mercedes glared at Santana. “Kurt, we want you to sing with us.”

Brittany clapped her hands. “Yeah.”

“Finn sings,” Rachel threw in. She looked to the tall, jock standing with his back against the wall.

Recognizing the look in Rachel’s eyes, Kurt felt a shiver run up his back. Would she be just one of nine? He did not want to think of it.

“Yes, I sing,” Finn said in a low, timid tone.

“Why did you help me?” Kurt stared at the outsider. Finn looked like a fawn ready to run.

“Kurt, I’ve tossed you in dumpsters and did other things.” Walking to within a couple of feet of the bed when he stopped Finn glanced down and fell silent.

The injured boy watched the Beta. With each footstep apprehension rose in his chest.

“I can see it in your eyes, Kurt,” Finn added when he came to a stop. “I don’t expect trust. I don’t deserve it.”

Rachel objected. “Finn?”

“It’s true. I’ve not been the tolerate person Rachel. I fell for Karofsky’s crap.” Finn’s tone had a sharpness at the end of the statement. Slowly he made a face and looked away.

“You came . . .” Rachel pressed.

“Let him hang himself.” Santana cut Rachel off her with her sharp, Latino tongue.

“She’s right, Rachel.” Finn admitted. “I’ve been an ass to all of you. I was one of the cool ones in the factory I came from. I wanted to be cool here. Karofsky offered that but then I found what cool meant to him. Karofsky is a hateful penis.”

Rachel blushed and Brittany snickered. Santana gave the jock a speculative look.

“Who’s John?” Kurt surveyed Finn. The regret in Finn’s voice spoke volumes.

“He’s one of the new ones along with the girls who jumped you. They want to prove themselves to Karofsky.” Finn shut up.

“And you didn’t think of warning anyone.” Santana glowered at the Beta.

Shaking his head, Finn said, “I didn’t know what they had in mind. I thought they would dump Kurt in the garbage that I knew he could get out of. I never expected this.”

Santana turned to face Finn. “And why are you here anyhow?”

“Because . . .” Rachel got cut off again but this time by Sam.

“I asked him to come,” Sam admitted. He gave Kurt an apologetic look.

Suddenly Kurt looked up at Sam. His only real friend would never have allowed Finn to be brought here if something had not changed.

Glaring across Kurt at Sam, Santana growled, “Who the hell do you think you are blondie?”

“Someone who cares.” Sam growled.

“I care.”

“Do you?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Think about it.”

“Now I’m a mind reader?”

“If you had just let Kurt sing none of this would have happened.”

Kurt paled and pulled away. Closing his eyes he saw soothing hazel.

“Let’s not get into this.” Rachel threw a hand up. The other one grasped Kurt’s.

“Kurt has a great voice,” Brittany stated with an innocence she could get away with.

Santana gave the blond girl a look and then glared at Finn.

Gazing at Santana Finn added, “Karofsky is a bully but those four instigated something worse. I had no idea they would go that far until I saw them follow Kurt. I got there as fast as I could.”

“And good for you soldier boy.” Santana eased up. She even cracked a tiny smile.

Finn blushed and Rachel beamed. She inched closer to the boy and placed a hand on his arm. Their eyes caught.

Mercedes patted Kurt’s hand. “Kurt we, well I’m ashamed of how we treated you.”

“Sam told us he went to see you.” Brittany played with her hair.

Kurt glanced from Brittany to Sam. His friend shrugged, smiled and blushed all at once.

“We are all ashamed,” Rachel glanced at all of them. Sam, Brittany and Mercedes nodded. Santana had a hard look to her face.

“Okay, right, yes I am sorry but . . .” Santana grumbled.

“Santana?” Brittany warned.

“Yes, I am sorry.” Santana let out a loud breath. “I do not understand what you call music Kurt but we’re friends.”

The boy in the bed just stared. His chin dropped.

“Kurt, we’re all friends, right?” Sam carefully pressed. He looked uncomfortable.

“Of course we are,” Brittany blurt out. “Pinky swear friends.”

A series of eyes flashed toward the blond.

Friends? The word bothered Kurt ever since Sam talked to him. He pitched the proverbial coin in the air trying to sort it out. The captain’s statement added to the echoing within his mind. If someone in a position of power could admit he sometimes felt lonely so could Kurt. The Arc promised a new life. He could have that new life.

“Kurt?” Brittany pouted with large doe eyes.

“Will you let me at least do that background stuff?” Kurt timidly asked. Brittany had that quirky way of melting barriers.

Everyone but Finn glanced at Santana. A tall outsider appeared confused.

“Yes,” Santana snapped then her face lightened. “Damn it, yes.”

In his mind Kurt heard that voice singing to him again. The deep, rich tones tickled his scrotum. He could do this. A bright smile erupted on the boy’s face.

Brittany jumped up and down.

“I guess that means we can get to it as soon as you are out of this place.” Rachel had that impish glint in her eyes.

“No you don’t” Santana pointed a finger at Rachel.

Shaking her head, Mercedes interceded, “We can start meeting at the same time in the same place.”

“Yeah.” Kurt smiled.

“No,” Finn announced.

Everyone glanced at tall teenager.

Blushing, Finn added, “Karofsky knows about the storage room.”

Santana took a threatening footstep closer to Finn. “You . . .”

“How could he?” Sam defended Finn.

A low growl escaped Santana’s throat.

“Where then?” Rachel glanced from Santana to Finn.

“I know a place.” Kurt committed himself.

They all looked at him.

Feeling self-coconscious, Kurt glanced at Finn. “Will you join us?”

The offer shocked even Rachel.

“I would like to, if you would have me,” Finn slyly conceded.


	8. Music

Re-entering the flow of endless days did not come easy. Conversations with the councillor, the doctor, Mr. Shu and the talk with the captain created a quagmire of competing thoughts. Kurt really wanted to be himself but fear hovered in his every footstep. How would other kids accept him? Would it be worse? He fretted over a number of things including what he would wear. Dark shadows lingered around every corner. When he slept hazel returned to comfort him but then he would wake and it started all over again. 

Rachel and Sam greeted him when they let Kurt out of the infirmary. Hugs all round and a kiss on the cheek made Kurt feel awkwardly happy. The rest of his group of budding friends gathered about his pod for an impromptu little party. Laughing and joking, they welcomed Kurt back. The injured boy loved it but then Lieutenant Sylvester happened along and broke it up with her usual sarcasm. 

That night Kurt did not sleep well. The beating would not leave him even though every time he closed his eyes speckled hazel hues soothed. In time sleep took him but he kept waking up. The next day Kurt went to see Sub-lieutenant Pillsbury. In the end she did not help much but then Kurt thought of seeking out Jake. Finding his mentor where he expected. Kurt sat down with a huff.

“You alight, kid?” Jake asked as his brow furrowed. The solidly built man turned from his tool bench where he worked on some small piece of machinery.

Letting out a sigh, Kurt smirked. “I feel kind of . . . well I don’t know.”

Sitting down beside the boy, Jake looked him over. Placing an arm about Kurt’s shoulder the mechanic tossed the boy this way and that. “Come on kid, you look great. A little scar will make you look tough.”

Laughing Kurt smiled and rubbed the left side of his neck. Yes, he would have a scar. “I always thought one would make me sexy.”

Jake chuckled. “Look, Kurt, what happened, don’t let it get you down. You’re stronger than that.”

Fingers ran over the light ridge on his neck again. This morning he did not see any sign of the bruising, on his face at least. His muscles felt stiff. “What’s going to happen?”

“Not decided. Sylvester and Hildebrandt rounded them all up the day you were attacked.”

“They’re kids?”

“Kids do not do things like that, Kurt.”

“Jake, I don’t want them to be hurt like . . .”

“That’s up to the captain now.”

“He came to speak to me.”

“I know. He spoke to me too.”

“Oh?”

“Kurt, I know this is haunting you. There will always be punks in your life. I have had my fair share of bullying.”

“You?”

“It’s not exclusive to your generation, kiddo.”

Kurt smiled and involuntarily leaned into Jake. Somehow Jake admission created a release Kurt had not expected. Tension tickled down his spin and to the bottom of his feet where it seemed to vanish.

“You should go and find your friends?” Jake suggested as he got up and returned to work.

The boy frowned. “They’re not . . . well one of them is.”

“Give them a chance, Kurt.” Jake picked up a tool and started to poke at the piece of equipment again. 

Pouting, Kurt pushed his mouth from side to side.

Turning to face the boy, Jake placed on hand on his hip. “I’ve watched you with them.”

Kurt gave his mentor a look.

“I know you sing with them in one of the storage room.” Jake smiled. “I’ve listened a few times through the vents.”

Kurt looked surprised.

“You’ve been singing around me for weeks now.” Jake went back to his work. “They’re worried about you.” 

The boy pondered Jake’s comments as the day wore on. The captain kept his word but for Kurt the extended weekend had been spent either sleep or lying in the infirmary. When Brittany and Sam caught up with him they told Kurt the captain had called another assembly to speak about the attack. Sam showed Kurt the video in which Karl Degras pointedly stated they no longer lived in the lawless hinterlands and gang like activities would not be tolerated. To make the point he talked about the old days when a ship’s captain could sentence wrong doers to all sorts of punishment including execution. He never did say what the consequences had been. 

A new week started the next day. Between classes and a relaxed work schedule Kurt hung out with those who may yet be called friends. Rachel bugged him about this place where they could sing. In fact she became pushy and exasperating. Kurt had not really made up his mind because of the inherent risk.

One afternoon reality stuck in an expected way. From out of nowhere Puckerman cross checked Kurt into the wall. Kurt grimaced as the stiffness in his back gave way to waves of pain. Above him the bully laughed but then, to the surprise of both, a boy in a wheel chair and an oriental girl interrupted. The sight startled the bully who ran off yelling slurs.

“Asshole!” the fourteen year old wearing the standard uniform yelled. The boy’s long, narrow face looked hard and unapologetic. Narrow blue eyes followed the goon as he bumped into another three girls in his hurried retreat.

Leaning over the kid in the wheel chair, the round faced oriental girl patted him on shoulder. Long black hair flowed down over the boy in the wheel chair. She brushed it away. “Artie, you shouldn't do things like that.”

“Tina that guy . . . forget it.” Artie’s eyes swung to the right and fell upon the boy sitting on his butt with an odd look on his face. “You’re Kurt Hummel, right?”

“Uh, yeah?” Kurt slowly arched his back to relieve the discomfort.

“I’m Artie Abrams,” the boy in the chair looked up at the girl hovering over him, “and this is Tina Cohen-Chang.”

Kurt looked the duo up and down. A wheelchair? They still used those these days? Surprised, Kurt muttered. “Ah, hello?”

“Here, let me help you up,” Tina offered Kurt a hand. 

Taking it, Kurt hauled himself off the floor. Brushing the dirt from the cloths of his own design, he gazed at the odd pair. “How do you know me?”

“Everyone knows you now, Kurt,” Tina said. The embellished uniform she wore looked out of place but somehow it fit her. 

Kurt’s square jaw dropped. God’s no.

Tina’s expression changed. “Sub-lieutenant Schuester told us about you.”

“What?”

“He tells us you like to sing.”

“What?”

“Yeah, we both like to sing.”

“What does Mr. Shu . . . Sub-lieutenant Schuester have to do with all of this?”

Tina shrugged and then glanced at Artie. The pet name amused them. 

“Maybe we would like to join your little group.” Artie shrugged.

Tina grinned. “We were in the dining hall during the food fight.”

Kurt suddenly chuckled. Rachel’s expression when she got it in the face. 

Artie added. “We know of someone else who might like to join in as well.”

Later that afternoon an odd collection of teenagers met in a corner of the library. Kurt introduced Artie and Tina to his little group of would-be friends and in turn Artie presented Quinn Fabray. The stunning, hazel eyed blond stood sat on the edge of a low shelf looking every one over. Wearing a light blue dress in the modern style with a few personal refinements Rachel’s face hardened. Quinn eyed Finn up like a piece of meat. 

Her hazel orbs mesmerized Kurt for a brief second. More brown than green he did not like the place his mind went. The thought turned his stomach.

The enlarged group chatted for over half an hour before the subject of music came up. Kurt did not like where the conversation went until Tina mentioned she liked the old melodies from a couple of hundred years ago. Not the same as what Kurt enjoyed, it pressed the issue of different styles much to Santana’s abhorrence. Sam, who normally stayed out of the heated discussions unless he thought it important, dropped what turned out to be the proverbial bombshell—he liked something called county. Kurt laughed and everyone looked at him.

Mercedes and Finn wanted to hear what Sam had to offer and that led to the next step . . . going to the place Kurt had said they could use. 

Frightened, Kurt told them they would need to wait until later that evening. They decided to meet about six. In the intervening period Kurt decided to take a nap. What-ifs worried him. None of them had been to lander seventy two. His pass would get them in but how would they react to the stark reality of the place? The lander looked nothing like any of the others. It had none of the dining, sleeping, study or recreational facilities they would expect. Nor did it have the array of things found in the agricultural, storage or manufacture landers. In fact, it contained absolutely nothing. The whole thing consisted of the engine compartment, a cut down version of the environmental devices and a large and completely empty hold surrounded by a fifteen foot wide corridor.

The emptiness of the place bothered Kurt. It felt haunted and devoid of life. The nine teenagers walking along through the outer hall of the massive space gawking. It looked pristine as if has just come off the assembling line with nothing added inside. The walkway around the huge central hollow space went up fifty feet and backed onto the outer hull. Three metal scaffolds accessible by stairs faced the inner emptiness. Small, sealed chambers occupied miss matched placements on each level facing a window looking into the center core. Ten foot wide by five foot tall windows on either side of the room broke up the solid walls.

“This is freaky.” Artie commented. His head moved from side to side.

Tina pushed Artie along in his chair. The teenager had been quite candid about the fact his had broken his back in an accident in the factory he worked in. The chemicals involved turned part of his spin to a gel that then hardened. Without the medical system enjoyed by the privileged there had been no way to fix the damage. Luckily his brilliant mind prevented euthanasia. Sub-lieutenant Owen, in consultation with other medical professionals, thought she could reverse the damage. 

Head spinning as he glanced about, Finn looked a bit out of place. “It feels so . . . so . . .”

“Empty.” Santana cut in and then turned to Kurt. “What the hell prompted you to suggest this . . . coffin?”

In response Kurt let a single five second note to escape his throat. The high B resonated down through the huge stark corridor. It seemed to go on forever and never really lost is tone. Then it returned. Kurt beamed.

Sam whistled.

“My, I have never experienced anything like that before,” Quinn purred. Wear a revealing, as modern would go, outfit she stood next to Finn but not too close. 

“Tweedy bird.” Brittany turned on the spot. The look on her face changed. “It’s almost a perfect space though it refracts the tone slightly.”

Most of them looked at the blond. Santana cocked an eye. 

Standing on the other side of the Finn and closer than the beautiful blond, Rachel glanced across the large boy’s torso. “When did you discover this place?”

“A few weeks ago,” Kurt turned around. The note had become a faint whisper obscured by their voices.

“Bro, this is cool,” Sam blurt out. Smiling his voice rose as he belted out a few bars of a song. His voice vanished into the distance.

An eyebrow shot up. Kurt had to applaud his shy friend for having the balls to present his choice to the others. 

“What the hell was that?” Santana turned her nose up at Sam. 

Sam proudly replied, “Country.”

“County what?” Santana’s face pulled together. “County cat’s screwing.”

Mercedes rolled her eyes. “Come off it Santana, we agreed.”

“For fuck’s sake?” Santana through her arms up.

In all virtuousness Brittany commented, “It sounds like more birds.”

“Brittany?” Santana stared at her best friend. 

“It made for an interesting effect.” Artie nodded and then held a hand up to Sam. The other boy’s hand met it with a loud smack.

“It has a certain twang to it.” Tina pointed out.

“You’re deaf, slant eyes,” Santana snarled.

“Listen here!” Tina stepped toward Santana with her hands on her hips. “Who the hell nominated you as queen bitch?”

Santana stood tall accepting the challenge. “Certainly not the cat Sam just dumped in the pot for your dinner.” 

“For god’s sake, not again?” Flopping himself down on one of the benches against the transparent outer hull, Kurt groaned with the suddenly jolt. The muscles in his back revolted. 

“We’d all decided to look at different music styles,” Sam defended his position. His eyes trailed Kurt.

“And we all agreed not to kill each other,” Santana shot back.

Rachel shook her head. “No one is killing anyone.”

“That noise could shatter the outer hull.” Santana rapped the ceramic coated metal inner wall protecting them from the chill of open space. 

“What is your problem, Santana?” Rachel glared at the pretty Latino woman.

Hardness etched across Santana’s face. “You have the problem, big nose.”

Rachel fumed.

Brittany looked upset. “Santana?”

The Latino girl’s eyes went to the blond. Her head remained still. 

“Do we have to do this?” Mercedes pleaded. She gazed at Kurt.

A distraught look on his face Kurt disappeared as he slowly placed his hands against his face. Leaning forward he let out a long, low breath. He felt absolutely stupid. How could he believe they could work together? Friend? He no longer knew.

“So we’re going to get more strange stuff and do what touch hip to hip like so many brainless idiots?” Santana glared at Mercedes. Modern dance matched the moralistic nature of dressing. The body could not touch except when palms are placed flat against one another. Fast steps made many dances difficult.

The large, round dark skinned woman stepped forward. The look on her face revealed she rested on the edge.

Shuddering, Kurt turned way. His mind sank as he pressed his hands into his eyes. A flash of hazel in each brought instantaneous relief but not calm. He pulled his chest down closer to his knees. His head hurt. His back hurt. His heart hurt.

Pressing through the thong of agitated teenagers Finn sat beside Kurt placing an arm about the boy’s shoulder. The smaller teenager looked up with one finger wagging Finn off. The taller teenager did not care. In fact he pulled Kurt closer into a protective hug. 

Glaring at Santana, Rachel eyes shifted to Finn. About here the new kids stood there staring. Quinn’s mouth hung low and then she walked over and sat beside Finn. A hand fell on the jock’s shoulder. Rachel eyes grew hard.

Looking up at Tina, Artie’s expression revealed concern. Tina had that ‘what am I doing here’ look on her face.

“Listen to all of you,” Finn gave Quinn and odd look and then stroked Kurt’s shoulder. “I may be out of place, but didn’t all of you say Kurt could sing . . . what did you call it . . . background stuff? So what’s the difference?”

“Who the hell . . .?” Santana shut her mouth. Her eyes bore down on Finn.

Brittany shook her head.

“Look, I don’t understand what all this arguing is about. Music is music. I have my own likes and dislikes.” Finn glanced at Artie and Tina. “We all have our likes and dislikes. Why can’t we just find something that works?”

“You do want to sing as a group, don’t you?” Quinn backed Finn up. Her hand made small circled on the jock’s bicep.

Rachel’s brows pulled apart and her facial countenance shifted as if she had made some sort of decision. A twinkle of displeasure marred brown eyes but in a calm tone she said, “I can’t speak for everyone else but I love singing.”

“No you like your own voice.” Santana stomped a foot.

“Perhaps I do.” Rachel slowly spun around. “Yes, I do. So there. As a matter of fact you all do, including your Santana.”

The Latino girl’s brow furrowed.

Not caring, Rachel pressed on. “So do all of us or we wouldn’t be here. We argued before and look what happened. Do we want Karofsky to win?”

The mention of name caused different looked even upon the newbies. Everyone glanced at one another. Kurt shivered.

Rachel carried on. “Not all of us have your self-confidence Santana. Nor do we have Brittany’s interesting way of looking at life. For the most part Sam is shy. Mercedes is bold. I’m . . . well . . . ambitious. What about you, Finn, Tina, Artie . . . Quinn?”

“I’ve like to sing since I was a kid. Now it is all I have.” Artie sat there tall in his chair. His eyes told the story. 

Placing a hand on Artie’s arm, Tina nodded. “What else do we have? We’re orphans on a ship going to who know where. We go to school. We work. To me song is what makes me feel whole. It’s personal. It’s something that can be shared.”

“It can make others happy,” Finn kept in his arm resolutely about Kurt. “I joined you because Kurt was brave enough to ask me.”

Stunned by the admission, Kurt pulled his body upright. 

Quinn inched closer to Finn. “From what we talked about in the library, Kurt is the one that started all this.”

“Yeah, when we caught him in the atrium . . .” Santana stopped herself but slamming her mouth shut when someone cut her off.

Brittany bopped her head about. “A puppy who sounds like a bird.”

People glance at the blond. She sweetly smiled. 

“I, for one, don’t want to go back to what was.” Sam softly stated. 

Rolling his head so that he could see his friend, Kurt noted the redness in Sam’s cheeks. The peace of the infirmary called to him. What had been worse—being beaten or going through this again. Lying there for hours on end he found the time think for himself. Hazel hues came and soothed making him feel safe. Arguing sucked.

“So we have different styles.” Quinn shrugged. “We all have one passion in common so let’s get on with it.”

“Yeah.” Finn glanced at Quinn and smiled. “Let’s play with it.”

Walking over to the bench, Rachel sat on the other side of Kurt and took his hand. Her eyes however landed upon Finn and Quinn behind him. “So we get a chance to broaden our minds.”

“We’re not doing that again.” The hardness returned to Santana’s face.

“We don’t need to do that, Santana. There is enough of us here we could make something good out of this.” Rachel patted Kurt’s hand. “What do you think Kurt?”

Water glistening in Kurt’s eyes. He wanted to run but doing that solved nothing last time. No one spoke

Flouting the silence, Artie said, “Look at it this way, we use that passion to make something nice.”

“Yes.” Tina chimed. “What do we have to look forward to out there? It’s not a slum but it’s not . . . I don’t know what it is.”

“It’s a chance for a new life.” Kurt broke his muteness. Drawing himself up, he sat tall with Finn’s arm about his shoulder and Rachel gripping his hand. “Captain Degras told me he was a loner and his job forced him to change. We’re all loners, right?”

No one objected though several of them glanced at Santana. 

“He told me he had been born into a life with few expectations.” Kurt looked at them all. “Life is what we make of it. The captain made his way and now he is in command of what we call home. Perhaps in this new place each of us might find our destiny but for now, what do we really have . . . ourselves.”

Rachel pulled Kurt into a hug. A hand slipped around Kurt gripping Finn’s arm. The jock turned her way and smiled.

Enveloped Rachel in his arms, Kurt smiled. It felt good to hold someone. His eyes closed and the speckling hazel returned. The heart rose and once more he heard loving tones. He could do this.

“Okay then!” Sam clapped his hand together. “Do we sing?”

No one answered right away and then Tina struck a note. Artie, Mercedes and Finn immediately joined in. In a few second, everyone carried a different note but Santana. Standing there with her arms crossed she glared and then she belted out a loud, long chord. Not to be outdone Rachel punched up the volume as her voice rose up over everyone else. Santana added more force and then broke down giggling. Within seconds they all laughed. Piling in upon the four on the bench a group hug resulted.

Crushed in the middle, Kurt melted into the people about him and closed his eyes. Hazel instantly came and mist rose up in his mind around a couch. The way the right side of the cloudy face pressed up into a smirk warmed an aching heart. Then a boy sat across a table from three others. Each had a paper cup in their hands. Glossy wooden walls with strange lighting fixtures created a blurry back drop. The three fuzzy forms on the other side of the table wore similar blue jackets. Tension filled the air but words spoken by one of the three broke it. The single boy asked an honest question and three boys laughed. The lad wearing grey got emotional. The fella in the center of the three said something to the other two who got up and departed. Two remained across the table from one another talking. Emotion flowed from one and calm concern from the other. Disturbingly, Kurt recognized the manner he revealed extreme sentiment. His eyes flung open. Panting, the image vanished. 

Fluttering eyelids did not allow the focus to tighten. Passion refused to let go of the deep, odd feelings caressing Kurt’s chest. He smelt the liquid in the cups and heard the sensitive tones of the three boys. The mind disputed it but he knew he had been there. How? 

“Kurt?” Finn forced himself to pull back from the boy he had been hugging. 

Artie pulled on wheels and rolled back. Others dispersed. All eyes fell on the boy in the middle. 

“You alright?” Rachel asked in a kind, soft tone.

Not sure what to say. Kurt just sat there for a moment. Misty vestiges drifted on the edge of his mind as reality twisted. Conscious thought did not like where emotion drove things. Deeper considerations caused the release of a welcomed shudder. Something deep inside told him he needed to record his thoughts.

“Kurt?” Worry laced Rachel’s soft tone.

Clearing his throat, Kurt grinned at Rachel. “Yes, sort of. Made me think.”

“It made us all think, bro.” Sam smiled. 

“Why don’t we sing?” Mercedes suggested. She had a warm look on her face.

Santana made a face. “Sing what?”

“You choose, Santana.” Sam inclined his head to her.

That caught the spicy Latino girl off guard. For a second she did not reply and Santana started. Everyone but Kurt joined in creating a mesh mashed noise. Amazingly, Kurt found perverse solitude in the fact Santana stumbled. Perhaps a human being lived under that tough exterior. Everyone in the corridor lived with some sort of personal turmoil. They all hid it or dealt with it in their own way. God, knows Kurt refused to accept his. 

Watching the faces of those about him made Kurt smile. The resentment expressed only a few moments ago no longer existed. Standing in a circle, eight people amalgamated their voices in an act of love. Bright eyes and joyful looks defeated the fact Kurt could not stand the uneven tones and off key chords. Rolling his back he sucked on his lip and then let out a long breath. Choosing his manner of attack, he joined at first with quiet, underlying harmony. Santana gave him a look and then Mercedes bopped over and wrapped an arm about the boy. Her voice broke now and then as she tried to match Kurt’s efforts. 

Off on the side Tina added a different counterpoint to Kurt and Mercedes. Suddenly everything went quiet except the resonation of voices along massive hall. They just stood there listening to the eerie sound. Sam started chucking and then everyone started to laugh again. The sight of all of them made Kurt feel it had all been worth it. 

People took turns choosing songs they thought everyone would know. All modern, no one wished to tempt fate just yet. Kurt marveled at how everything appeared to move more or less smoothly. A few raised hackles here and there did not disrupt a festive mood. Everyone just relaxed, kicked up their heels and had fun. Youthful enthusiasm turned into the modern dance. Contrary social norms, Kurt’s wiggling moves received odd looks especially from Santana. Quinn took it a little further than even Kurt found comfortable when she, without touching, shimmied herself up and down Finn. The jock got a bit put off by it that led him to Rachel who could not wait to drive Quinn off. 

Sticking to the edge of the fun Kurt recognized the growing friction between the girls. Finn seemed not to care and then, to the surprise of the combatants, he started to pay attention to Brittany. Santana’s face turned dark and she started to close the gap when Artie suddenly tipped his wheelchair over. All concern went that way defusing what Kurt knew would have been a difficult situation. The others may not have noticed it but Kurt picked up on the subtle signals between Santana and Brittany. They hid it well.

Once Artie back in his chair, everyone settled down. Sitting in the center of the bench Mercedes had a look of admiration on her face. Gazing at Kurt she said, “That was harder than it sounded.”

Kurt blushed.

“It was fun,” Brittany cooed.

“Yeah,” Tina sat on the floor against the outer corridor wall. Dark hair surrounded her head in a huge mess.

“See it can be done.” Rachel commented. She placed herself between Quinn and Finn on the floor in front of the bench. Her knees pulled up to her chest she looked to Kurt sitting cross legged against the bench to their right.

“I had no doubt.” Santana asserted. 

Rachel rolled her eyes.

Yes, it had been fun but Kurt had no illusions it would never be perfect. Yet, it had been a long time since he had enjoyed himself so much. The incoherent nature of their music took on a difference that amazed them all. Sorrowfully it would have to come to an end. They needed to get back to twenty one.

Regardless, the solitude of the moment touched Kurt. Perhaps, yes, he could call them all friends. The harmonies that Kurt, Tina and Mercedes added to the chorus seemed to make sense even though Santana looked pissed. The addition of Finn to the mix added male tones they needed. Artie’s had a rich voice and a great ability to carry it. Tina did not have the same legs but her voice added interesting tones. Quinn’s singing did not have the strength Kurt expected but her rasping low qualities made it all work.

“We’re going to have to go back, aren’t we?” Sam moaned. He glanced back down the long corridor to the door they had come through. 

“If you like having Wacky Sue tanning your lily white ass, you can stick around,” Santana shot back. 

Kurt rolled his eyes and then snickered.

“What?” Brittany asked in her soft manner.

“Things never change.” Kurt smiled at all of them.

“Yes they do,” Finn stated. “I’m with kids I picked a little while ago enjoying myself with song. I think we all enjoyed ourselves.”

“I did,” Rachel leaned into Finn.

“Yeah.” Quinn winked at Finn.

Rachel gave her a hard look. 

“Where do you think this will take us?” Tina asked.

No one answered at first and the Rachel said, “A career.”

Santana choked. “Are you joking? Who do you think you are one of the privileged?”

“As Kurt pointed out, we’re not in that world anymore. Who knows?” Rachel gave Santana a hard stare.

Santana stuck her tongue out. “You have a point.”

“I know I don’t want to go back to that life.” Finn did not sound enthusiastic. “The factories were hard.”

“And dangerous,” Artie pointed out.

“I hope the doctors can fix you up, Artie?” Mercedes said in all sincerity. 

“So do I.” Tina nodded. She tapped Artie’s leg.

Turning his wheel chair Artie winked at Tina. “When do we do this again?”

Everyone looked to Kurt. Who elected him boss? He shrugged. “A couple of days, I guess?”

“Okay.” Mercedes started to walk. They all did.

Brittany grabbed onto Kurt’s arm. “You’re such a good puppy.”

Just for the fun of it, Kurt panted and brushed his head up against her shoulder. Brittany giggled. Kurt had never seen a real puppy before other than on old programing. He knew they existed but dogs, like cats, usually ended up in pots. 

“You know, you’re not that scary, Santana,” Tina commented. She walked beside Sam who pushed Artie along the corridor.

“Try me.” Santana shot back.

Tina blinked.

“Do you want to meet after class tomorrow?” Quinn asked. She glanced at Finn.

Rachel stepped closer to Finn who looked a little nervous. She suggested, “The library.”

“Why not?” Sam danced about a bit.

“We could . . .” Finn suddenly glanced toward the large hallow middle.

Loud thumping over their heads brought them all to a stop. Looking around eyes went wide. Then the structure shuddered causing Brittany and Rachel to scream. Santana laughed and then fell silent when the lander violently shook. Through one of the windows a dark strip appeared in the roof. Sliding to either side the hull opened forming a long slit down the length of the upper side of the lander. A membrane of some sort protruded up from the outer hull and under a large, grey curving object. When the hull stopped moving, the bottom of the object opened up. It fell as a trickle at first and then became a long and loud cascade that shook the lander. Tons of rock of varying sizes smashed onto the floor of the vacant hold.


	9. Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pinched a part from my other work, Loves Cycle, and restructured to fit. For those how have read that work, you will note more overlaps as I get deeper into this story. I have always intended the two of overlap.

“Kurt Hummel to my office. On the double.” Wacky Sue’s voice echoed through the class.

Nancy Blethiem, the geometry teacher, stood at the front of the room beside a large view screen. Adorned in the standard crew uniform her eyes looked up to the speaker running along the top of a large screen. Thin lips formed into a scowl and dark orbs slowly moved down into the rows of students. They came to rest upon one teenager dressed in something she considered to be morally reprehensible. Wrinkles crinkled up into a face. The conservative supporter of Lieutenant Sylvester rapped on the wall with a short plastic pointer to gain everyone’s attention. Arm folded she indicated to the door with her head.

Mortified, Kurt turned beat red. People snickered and the girl directly behind Kurt pulled something out of her bag. Reaching forward and lightly pressed a flat, rectangular object against fabric. The shiny little device attached itself to the padding shoulder of the jacket Kurt had made. A couple of seconds later it folded open revealing the word—LOSER.

Unware of the attachment, Kurt rose. Collecting his mini-computer, the shrunk the screen down and folded the device into a pocket of his carry bag. Staring straight ahead he marched out into the hall ignoring the snide comments.

Glancing back Kurt spotted Mrs. Blethiem watching him on an angel through the door. Not the quite most senior member of the crew in respect to age, the grey haired widow took her job seriously. Kurt disliked stubborn and priggish woman. She had a mean streak and liked to play games with her students. Recruited for her expertise in astronomy and astro-navigation, mathematics came in a close third. Jake gossiped she had been working for the Foundation for more than twenty five years from the inside.

Out in the hall Kurt let out a long breath he noticed the a few kids walking away from him. Everyone in the lander would have heard the unceremonious summons. With no idea what Wacky Sue wanted bumping into one of Karofsky’s troop would be disaster.

Something hard rapping on the side of the wall caused Kurt to jump. Spinning about his eyes fell upon Mrs. Blethiem standing there looking authoritative. Swallowing, Kurt ran down the hall toward the elevator. The lieutenant’s office lay in the forward section of the lander close to the bridge. The fastest way there would take Kurt past several classrooms and the library. Along the way he passed a few other students. Most paid him little attention to him but a few threw cutting remarks and laughed.

The elevator opened up into a long hall lined by several doors. The officers lived up here. They had small suites rather than cubicles along with their own dining hall, kitchens and recreational facilities. Rumour had they ate better than the kids they took after. Through Jake, Kurt knew it to be false. With the agricultural landers now producing at eighty percent capacity everyone ate pretty well.

Stepping nervously into the hall, Kurt stopped. The curving doors behind him slid shut closing off his only escape route. The map on the elevators monitor told him the lieutenant’s office occupied a space next to the bridge. At the far end of the empty hall he came across two signs opposite each other. Both read Lieutenant Sylvester with one having a sub-note readying private and the other, office. Letting out a hard breath, Kurt turned toward the office. Lifting his hand the door opened before he could knock. Through the crack he her raised voices. Sheepishly, Kurt stepped in. The door silently slid shut behind him.

“. . . to be, sub-lieutenant.” Wacky Sue’s voice carried. She sounded angry.

From Kurt’s angle Mr. Shu’s stood with his back to him with one hand on his hip. His voice sounded strained. “With all due respect, it’s doesn’t make sense.”

“Lieutenant Sylvester has a point.” Commander Higgins looked far too relaxed. His eyes slowly shifted from the embattle officers to the door. His head remained still.

Shrinking back into a corner of the short hall lined with a closet on each side, Kurt tried not to make a sound. The office too up one and a half times the space compared to the area Kurt lived in. A single large monitor dominated the wall opposite a narrow, curving desk. Split into a dozen mini-screens with each rotating through various points of the lander. Filtered light shown down the dull grey walls creating triangles. Sylvester sat behind her desk looking superior. Higgins sat opposite on a curving, plush couch.

Sub-lieutenant shook his head. “The lieutenant’s point has little basis in law.”

“This is not Earth wilted brains.” Wacky Sue laughed and then an eyebrow went up. Her eyes swiveled toward the door. Her head moved ever so slightly. “Do you have any other stupid things to add?”

“You can’t. . .” The junior officer took a short step sideways and then abruptly stopped.

Commander Higgins held a hand up. “This will have to wait, we have a guest. Mr. Hummel, please come in.”

Eyes darting there and there, Kurt slowly stepped forward and to the side. Folding his hands together behind his back he stood with his back to the wall. At the same time Schuester spun about with an apologetic look. All three officer wore the standard uniform. Their eyes all fell on the Kurt. The boy paled.

“It’s tickle-me-dough-face.” Sylvester chimed as her chair shifted to face the boy.

Schuester objected, “That was uncalled for.”

“Lieutenant,” Higgins said in a less than stern voice.

“Okay . . . porcelain . . . do step closer.” The lieutenant rolled her eyes up toward the Schuester. She gave away not hint of emotion.

Schuester shot the lieutenant a look.

Kurt remained still.

“Don’t keep us waiting, bamby.” A hint of authority filled the lieutenant’s tone.

Biting his upper lip, Kurt shuffled forward wringing his hands behind his back. The thumping in his chest felt uncomfortable. Sweat rolled down his back.

“Better. Now I can see that oily, angelic face.” Sylvester’s chair arched as she sat back. “What do you have to say for yourself, young man?”

Skin flushed as heat rose in Kurt’s cheeks. Glancing down, the boy’s face gave way his bewilderment.

“Come now, let’s not have a Chutney ferret waste time,” The lieutenant sat forward. “Out with it?”

“Sylvester?” Schuester questioned. The look on the sub-lieutenant’s face revealed him may not have known what the word meant but he did recognized it as derogatory statement.

Sylvester corrected. “Lieutenant!”

“Lieutenant,” Schuester adjusted his tone.

Higgins cleared this throat and cocked an eyebrow toward the lieutenant.

Shaking her head, Wacky Sue rose and walked over to Kurt. Standing over the nervous child she ran a finger across his check and shook her head. “I think I have a waterboarding kit about here somewhere.”

“Commander Higgins, this is going too far,” Schuester protested.

“Lieutenant?” Higgins glowered at Sylvester.

Fluffing it off, Wacky Sue turned her head to glare at the sub-lieutenant. “It hasn’t gone far enough as far as I’m concerned.”

Reaching out she tapped the screens. The entire wall suddenly came to life revealing Kurt swiping his access card allowing a scrum of teenagers through a previously sealed door. The kids looked about and then Kurt led them to the left. Pressing her finger against the screen again, it froze.

“What do you have to say, Mr. Hummel?” The lieutenant glared at the boy.

“I . . . well . . . there were no signs restricting . . .” Kurt stumbled. He knew the risks and now felt faint.

“Not the right answer.” Wacky Sue held out her hand. “Give me your access card.”

Digging into his pocket he pulled out the tiny one wide and three inch long card. Hesitating, he dropped it in the lieutenant’s hand. With it went his last sense of self-worth.

Sue Sylvester gloated when it fell into her palm. “You are hereby restricted to the landers of this spoke. You will be assigned to the kitchens to work the late shift washing dishes. Access will be denied to all extracurricular facilities. Outside of class, your little group of delinquents will not be allowed to gather in the library or anywhere else. When it is arranged, they will be dispersed into the landers of the other spokes.”

“Commander, that’s a bit harsh,” Schuester stepped closer to the ranking officer.

The lieutenant pointed a finger at her subordinate. “Liberals. You would give them a slap on the wrist and what . . . they can make it up in song? What adulterated dung. Schuester screw that feathery head of yours on straight. This is not Earth. This is colony ship fifty light years away. The rule of law need to be maintained.”

“And that is the very reason this is too harsh. There is not enough recreational time on board as it is.”

“They need to be ready for what is to come, sub-lieutenant. We can’t have a bunch of mambie pambies spewing useless dribble when we need to maintain order.”

“Have we suddenly gone corporate?”

“Watch yourself Mr.!”

“We need to provide them with safe places.” Schuester glanced at the boy. “Kurt almost got killed.”

“Another reason to toughen him up. I should hand the whole lot over to . . .” The Lieutenant shot a glance at Kurt. “. . . what do you call her . . . the Beast. She can whip you all into shape before I ship them all out.”

“Commander?” Schuester’s face hardened.

“My hands are tied, sub-lieutenant. This is Lieutenant Sylvester’s command a thus her choice. I’m here to witness the process.” Higgins sat up and looked to Kurt.

The sub-lieutenant’s face grew hard. “This isn’t fair?”

“All you’re whining upsets my digestion. Those brats penetrated a restricted area threatening a critical component of our mission.” Sylvester had glint of victory in her eye. “I’m not letting them walk away as if they came from some idiotic preppy school like you did. They must be ready.”

The sub-lieutenant’s hands went up. “Their kids and Kurt’s right, the lander is not marked. Commander you can’t let this stand.”

“My hands are . . .” Higgins suddenly looked to the door which slid open. The commander rose to his feet. “Captain Degras.”

Spinning around, Kurt’s heart rose into his throat. Even though the voice in the back of his head told him ‘no’, his knees went weak. Blue eyes went not to the face but rather to the mop of fussy hair on the top of the officer’s head. For a second Kurt fought back the urge to run his hands through the curls. A hand came up and pressed against his forehead. His skin felt hot.

“You alright, Kurt?” Sub-lieutenant Schuester bent closer to the boy.

The boy shook his head.

“Sit down, Kurt. You look like you are about to collapse,” the captain said as he walked into the office. Head moving about, his eyes feel upon the image filling the wall.

Kurt literally fell into the chair letting out a long breath. Blood rushed through his face and his sweat soaked his back down into his underwear.

“Captain, can I assist you?” Lieutenant Sylvester smiled at the ranking officer. With a hand she offered the chair behind her desk.

“Commander Higgins briefed me.” The captain’s eyes shifted from face to face.

“Then you need to know . . .” Schuester suddenly came to a halt.

Holding a hand up, the captain tapped his ear. “I heard everything.”

“Then . . .” Lieutenant Sylvester started and stopped.

Again the captain held up a hand. He glanced at the sweaty boy and then at the most junior officer in the room. “I liked your idea for an arts program sub-lieutenant. I’m giving you the green light. Competition in all its forms will be good for our charges.”

“What?” Sylvester asked the captain. Her eyes, however, fell angrily upon her subordinate.

The captain softly replied, “We have a sports league well under way, why not arts competitions.”

“You mean painting, sculpture, reading and writing?” The lieutenant looked as if she might be sick.

“That’s some of it,” Schuester gave the lieutenant a Cheshire cat look. “Also song and dance.”

Rolling her eyes, Sylvester glanced at the captain. “You’ve got to be joking. Wasting all those resources on a bunch of culpable nightingales.”

“Am I laughing, Lieutenant Sylvester?” The captain hid his thoughts behind a bland expression.

Wacky Sue’s eye narrowed.

The captain carried on. “That is why I’m authorizing resources to be taken from sports and the cheerleader and diverted to the arts.”

Sylvester’s chin dropped.

The captain noted the lieutenant’s facial appearance. “What I see are children being children and trying enjoy something they love. This is just a symptom of a larger issue. Separating them solves nothing. Restrictions won’t either. We have fifty thousand teenagers on board who will do what teenagers will do. As you, stated Lieutenant Schuester, his is not Earth. We have to give them something to look forward to. Yes, they broke the rules and access will be denied to seventy through seventy two to all our charges. However you will not separate or ban them from gathering. They need some other way to channel these curious energies. I am sure Kurt and his friends will enjoy their days under Sub-lieutenant Schuester’s tutelage.”

A shadow fell over Lieutenant Sylvester’s face. Higgins smiled as did Schuester.

“Sub-lieutenant Schuester you have my full support to set everything up. I leave it in your capable hands.” Captain Degras turned and headed for the door. Just before he stepped out of view the captain’s head swiveled toward Kurt and he winked.

Staring into the short hall, Kurt just sat there not understand what just happened. Sitting there the boy’s eyes passed from adult to adult. Mouth hanging open one brow went up and twisted. Something did not feel right.

Stunned, Wacky Sue stood there for a long moment and then went back behind her desk. Flopping down, she muttering under her breath while harassing the sub-lieutenant with her eyes. “I don’t know how you pulled his off square head. I will do all I can to bring you down.”

“Lieutenant?” Higgins stood and straightened his uniform. Glancing at Schuester, he added with a little smirk. “I guess I can look forward to a little friendly competition.”

Sylvester’s hands balled up. “Just get out of my office.”

Higgins cocked an eye at Wacky Sue. Walking toward the door, the glimmer in his eye increased as he hummed to himself. Sub-lieutenant Schuester crisply trailed behind.

The voices of the two departing officers faded away Kurt heard Mr. Shu questioned why he could have overridden the lieutenant. Everything just seemed so weird leaving the boy had no idea how all this had come about. One moment he looked at dishpan hands with no friends and now there would be singing groups all over the ship.

“Lovely, sweet hell,” Wacky Sue said to herself. “Damn it bubble head, how did you arrange that. I should have . . .”

Kurt pushed him back into his chair. The lieutenant stared right at him. Eyes locked on hers for a second. Kurt could see the cunning ego working behind the scenes. She fumed.

“What are you still doing here tickle-me-dough-face!” Wacky Sue growled in a shrill tone.

Kurt innocently replied, “Waiting to be dismissed.”

“Get out!” The lieutenant thrust a finger at toward the door.

Leaping up, Kurt gingerly shifted toward the door. Abruptly stopping, he glanced back at the lieutenant. “I prefer porcelain.”

The lieutenant looked up with the oddest look on her haggard face. “What?”

“I prefer being called porcelain,” Kurt said with strong conviction. Honestly he hated both but he could live the second one easier than the fist. It did match his beautiful skin after all.

Sylvester snapped. She threw the boy his security pass. “Get you’re pimply ass out of her, boy.”

Catching the computerized device he ran to the door. Taking a few steps to the left Kurt leaned against the wall. Drawing in a deep breath, the tightness of his shoulder radiated down into this back screwing with healing muscles. Days after the attack he still felt it. Today’s stress only exasperate the pain in Kurt’s lower back.

Suddenly Lieutenant Sylvester stepped into the hall. Stopping, she glared at Kurt. “Don’t you have a mirror to shatter, lady?”

Startled, Kurt blinked and then took off down the hall. Skidding to a halt before the door he waited. A small light over the door flashed red. The sound of a heel tapping on the floor caused him to look back. Wacky Sue staring at down the hall with a hard look on her face. Eventually it went solid green and the door slid open. A female crew member stepped out. The woman gave Kurt a look and nodded.

The lack of motion took a second to settle in. Drawing in a few short breaths, the pulse in Kurt’s neck slowed replacing the tension with simple ease. Pulling the shoulder bag from his elbow it settled on his shoulder. Slowly his eyes went to the interactive map on the wall. He saw nothing in particular. On instinct he tapped the top of the image. The small room started to move.

A little while later Kurt stared down the length of a long thin hall. Unfolded his fingers the boy gazed at the plasticized security device. Had she changed it? Kurt had no idea. He found out when he flashed the card across the manual switch and the wall slid to the right revealing a small observation lounge. Passing through the threshold he stopped when the lights automatically came on. Barely ten feet wide at its thinnest point it spread out to fifteen in width at the door, the curving wall mirrored the manner in which the outer shell bowed in toward the nose of the lander. The plush cushions of a twenty five foot banquette reached along the inner wall from the door. The transparency of the triple layered outer wall filled the entire space providing a grand vista of the stars. Great sprays of colour reached out from as far as the eye could see.

Waving the security device over a wall sensor the room faded to dark leaving the only an exterior light source. Smiling, he pocketed the gadget and stood there staring for the longest time. The sight of all those sparkling dots made him feel lonely. So much out there and so far away. Two hundred years to get this far. Two hundred years of sleep. Two hundred years without a parent. The most horrible part centered on the fact it felt just like yesterday.

Tilting his head against the see-through metal Kurt thought of his father and a dreadful moment. The day his mom died a boy thought life ended but then a large hand took his. The love that hand represented endured as a widower indulged his son and learned to laugh along the way. The man tried to teach him how to ride something called a bicycle. Playing games, such as tea, stretched his father’s sense of humour but then he always smiled. Kurt missed him. If his father still lived, would Kurt be standing where he did now? Would have anything to look forward to? Would he have to do what the officers wanted all the boys to do? Would be thrust into a nowhere job toiling for the corporations?

Letting out a sigh, Kurt rolled his head away. His forehead left a short oily streak on the wall. The full length of the Arc stretched out in both directions. Looking to the rear, the massive ship seemed to stand still. From his prospective the spokes did not move. However the longer he watched the rounded hull segments of the main section cast slowly shifting shadows. He marveled at the subtle sight but then his brows pulled together. Pushing off from the window he turned to face the engine section miles away. A string of what looked like elongated globes lined up back to back extended out from one of the landers. Two dots of light moved around the bloated ovals. Distance made counting difficult.

Pulling back from the window Kurt tried to get a better look and then he stopped. Recalling the stone falling into the empty hold and the comments in Sylvester’s office, he lowered his head. Fingers sprayed out wide and then flew up in front of his face where they waved about. His mind screamed, “Don’t go there.”

Spinning around, Kurt started to leave and then blue eyes locked on that brilliant spot of twinkling light. From Earth he would have thought of it as a planet. Out here he knew better. Could that be home? He stared. What would they find there? Would they really be able to find freedom? Would there be appointed leaders or elected? How would they govern? What would he do? Would he find happiness? The thought of actually being able to choose the path of his life both thrilled and frightened.

He gazed at the distant point of light for a long while. It mesmerized and made him think of things he had never really considered before. A hand fell on his chest. He mom and dad would always live there. Perhaps the time had come for him to spread his wings

Smiling, Kurt closed his eyes knowing what to expect. Hazel speckled with green erupted on the back of his eyelids. Swirling mist folded up about a couch somewhere deep in his mind. Rolling up into the air it took on a geometric shape of a small room. Two hazy forms representing a man and woman stood before a cloudy indent reminiscent of doors. One wore something Kurt recognized from some of his old books—a suite. The lady wore a long, flowing gown flowed down the length of her body. The older gentleman spoke to the woman ignoring the two, younger and obviously male forms standing behind them.

Whirling grey vapors moved in and about the two men creating a slurred image. One seemed more substantial and look like Kurt. The other stood slightly shorter and less distinct shape. Mists curled up about the smaller man’s chin. Spots of pink accented thick lips pushing the right cheek into a smirk. Hazel mixed with hints of green glistened within eyes surrounded by thick lashes.

Kurt’s heart thumped against his ribs. Detached from reality he felt himself drawn to the indistinctive man standing beside him in an inconsistent elevator. Fog played about both of them but logic could not dispute the sensations he felt. A boy physically swallowed as he realized the abstract truth of what he saw. The left hand folded effortlessly into the right hand of a hazy form with dreamy hazel eyes.

The two young men let the other couple exit first. Following at a discrete distance, streaming mist flowed along until they encountered a male figure. The hazy maître’d led them down a set of curving, incoherent stairs into an opulence room that took their breath away. Light sparkled from oddly transparent crystal, glass and polished metals. Layers of tables arrayed around the dance floor set with a huge star at the center. A large chandelier hung in a place of honour. Shadowy figures played various musical implements Kurt recognized from bygone years in the space between curving stairs and the dance floor. That odd effervescent in his ears told him they played Straus.

Wine and dinner, sweet talk and toasts marked the beginning of their evening. In time the shorter form offered his hand and two men made their way out onto the star. Holding each other as a waltz demanded, two young flowing shapes made of haze moved about the floor with grace and ease followed by a fine.

As the sky slowly darkened, another misty and older individual encroached on a romantic evening. Sitting for a while, the three talked and drank. The three rose and together they shimmied over to the cache of old instruments. A glimmer of hazel slid along a bench in front of a piano. Wispy fingers pranced across glossy white and black creating an eerie chill. Tingled up the neck it found its way to the ears. Soft, caring tones echoed within the head.

_I look around at the trees and water wishing,_  
_I sit here all alone asking myself, where is he,_  
_Memory warms me but I fell so alone?_

Hazel embodied every aspect of the emotional chords enveloping Kurt. Every word and note flowed with deep admiration and overpowering love.

 _The wind cools the hot sun beating against my face,_  
_It burns but does not destroy the tear,_  
_I feel all alone_.

The sure power of the feeling disrupted the beautiful moment causing his eyes to pop open. A very real tear rolled from down to Kurt’s lips. The heart happily hummed while conscious thought echoed with a single word—insanity. Part of the boy agreed then somewhere else he heard a long, no.

Reaching up Kurt wiped his eyes. For a long second he stared at the glistening liquid drying on his skin. Suddenly he pressed his hand against his thigh dispersing the moisture. Without another thought he turned to the door and stepped out into the hall. Glancing over his shoulder he saw the last flash of the light streaming into the room from outside. From deep down enduring comfort radiated though his body making him feel uneasy.

Brushing his hair back, Kurt’s finger lingered in the long locks. Lost in thought Kurt absently turned toward the stairs. The day’s events had not been settled but just pushed away. Those uneasy sensations swirled up around him again. Light headed he concentrated on keeping his himself going in one direction.

“Kurt?” a female called from behind. Foot falls raced toward him followed by arms wrapping around him. Breasts pressed into the boy’s side.

Completely stunned he could barely got a puff of air out of his lungs. The moistness about his eyes blurred his vision. Drawing in a deep breath, Kurt let it out ever so slowly. “Santana?”

“Are you alright.” The Latino girl let Kurt go.

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone heard you get called out of class. We’ve been looking for you for three hours.”

“Three hours? It felt like . . .”

“What did they do to you?”

Rolling his head up, Kurt stepped back until he leaned against the wall. Eyelids slid shut and again he saw hazel and two hazy men dancing around a star embedded in the floor. The sight relieved simmering apprehension. Of all people Santana had to find him. Then she surprised. A hug? Really? Slowly he told her about what happened in Lieutenant Sylvester’s office. The girl’s face changed as the tail went on.

Santana blurt out. “No?”

“Yes.” Cocking an eyebrow, half of Kurt’s lip curled up.

“He did that?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t get it what the captain sees in you?”

“Gee thanks . . . I think?”

“You know what I mean?”

“I do?”

“I haven’t been the nicest person.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Look, Kurt I really do not like that stuff you sing.”

“You made your opinion well known.” The conversation made Kurt feel uneasy. “It’s not that bad.”

“Yes it is, but I’m trying to understand.” The brunette wiggled her nose.

Kurt grinned.

“I know I can be a bitch.” Santana admitted.

Kurt sucked on his lower lip.

“Come off it Kurt, you must have noticed by now.”

“Yeah, I think we all have.”

“I’ve needed to be tough.”

“We all need somewhere to hide.”

“You saying I’m hiding?”

“You’re not?”

Santana sighed and her face hardened. “Yeah, we all hide.”

Holding up a hand Kurt stated, “I don’t need to know.”

“I wasn’t going to tell you.” She glanced away as if what she thought about proved difficult. “Kurt, I really do owe you an apology.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes I do.”

“Santana, we have all had a bad time.”

“Some worse than others. Kurt, when I looked up and saw them beating on you I didn’t want to interrupt. And before you say anything, yes I hoped it would shut you up about your stupid music. I was mad with the others when the dumped on me after you stormed out. I took a couple of steps and paused. That’s when I saw Finn clash with John. Seeing him defend you embarrassed me. I . . .”

“Santana, don’t.” Kurt pushed of the wall.

Looking at the boy on an angle, Santana grinned. “Kurt, in that second, the whole fuck’n thing crashed down on me. Life has dealt me a shitty deck. I realized I’m very much like you. I have no friends on this tub. I push people away.”

“What of Brittany.” Kurt lay back again. His back hurt. “You two seem tight.”

Santana sighed. “She’s great, Kurt. I just don’t know if she’s a friend.”

One of Kurt’s eyebrows went up.

Jumping on the look Santana sharply retorted. “Kurt, I’m not like you.”

Kurt frowned.

“Sorry.” Santana shook her head. “Kurt, seeing you on the stairs and in that bed makes me think about all the shit I have been through.”

“You didn’t like it?”

“No.”

“Then be yourself but open that door just a bit.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“I might have just done that.”

“You did, Kurt. You’re braver than I am.” Santana rolled her eyes. “It’s all a big show. I’m as scared at the next person.”

Kurt smiled and nodded. “Do you think we can really be friends?”

First hesitation and then she blushed ever so slightly followed by a snort and a smile. “Yeah, Kurt, I think that could happen but let’s take in one step at a time.”

“You’re such a pussy cat.” Kurt chuckled.

“No, I fuck’n aren’t and don’t you forget it.” Santana plucked device off of Kurt’s shoulder displaying something she thought no longer applied. She crushed it in her hand.


	10. New Directions

Kurt felt restless. Soothing hazel eventually brought calm as he fondly remember a dance. Those misty fingers had a firmness logic had a hard time denying. He smelt sweet wine tainted breath against his nose. Most of all, that song. The tones dug so deep into his heart it stung. Long after lights out, Kurt lay there trying to understand but comprehension would not come. When he finally drifted off sleep hazel covered him like a warm blanket.

Getting up at the usual time Kurt went through his morning regiment. Showering first he then cleansed his skin with ointments and gels he made in chemistry class. He needed this little part of the day to himself. It connected him to everything he had lost. Like so many things in his life, his mom started him down this path. A five year old found pleasure in watching his mother going through her morning routine. As he grew he joined her. Burt would shake his head but then Kurt’s father loved them both. The death of his wife hit him in ways Kurt could not imagine.

He got hauled out of class about midafternoon. The call came through the teacher’s personal computer. Checking the back of his homemade sweater for unwanted messages, Kurt pondered the summons as he strolled down the hall. The room did not sound familiar.

Mercedes, Tina and Artie sat in a corner of room when Kurt entered. Four sets of eyes fell upon one another and then the questions. Tina started in on Kurt but Mercedes defended the boy. Artie stayed out of it. Quinn showed up next and her words for Kurt had a little more bite to them. Brittany bounced in carrying an off green book in her hands. No one used books any more. She made it complete with decorations made from something thick and waxy. When Rachel showed she looked mortified. Santana, Sam and Finn made a vociferous entrance. Quinn’s attitude brightened the moment she spotted Finn in his track outfit.

Civil conversations ensued until Sub-lieutenant Schuester walked into the room wringing his hands together. The bounce in his step indicated joy even though the standard uniform he wore screamed boring. Eyes moved over the area and the ten teenagers sitting in chairs spread haphazardly around the floor. Low bleachers capable of holding twenty ran across the back wall. To the left of the raisers sat a number of computer consoles on wheeled carts. On the wall between the two doors rested a large view screen.

Behind Mr. Shu strolled a tall, lean oriental teen. The boy’s oval face moved this way and that. Serious eyes passed over the six girls and four boys already there. He held himself stiff as if he did not know what he may be getting into.

“Welcome all of you,” Sub-lieutenant Schuester threw his arms out wide. Bright eyes gazed at all of them.

Rachel twisted around to look directly at Schuester and then her eye went to Kurt. Many eyes fell on Kurt. Shying away he knew it. They would all blame him.

“Excuse me sir, but why are we here?” Quinn asked. She would have sat closer to Finn if it had not been for Rachel.

“Yeah, we were not really given a choice.” Santana sat by herself with a brooding look on her face. “It’s Hummel isn’t it?”

All eyes fell on Kurt. The teenager sat by himself off to one side. Shrinking down, he let of a sigh. Once bitch, always a bitch.

Sub-lieutenant Schuester stepped closer to Kurt. He warmly smiled at the boy. “As a matter of fact yes, Kurt played a big part in what is going to happen. Didn’t he tell you?”

Again, all eyes fell on Kurt who looked away blushing.

“Great?” Santana groaned.

“Sub-lieutenant?” Tina sort raised his hand. Her head cocked to one side as if she studied him. “Who is the fellow with you?”

Schuester turned to the stranger. “I would like to introduce Mike Chang. He’ll be joining us.”

Stepping forward Mike smiled a pleasant smile. He waved and shyly said, “Hello.”

“Hi Mike,” Kurt said with a warm grin. Mike has a pleasant voice that did not seem abrasive.

Others returned the wave and said hello even though a sense of hesitance thickened the air.

Santana gave the new kid a look. “I haven’t seen you about.”

“Mike transferred in from eleven.” Mr. Shu stated.

Artie gave the officer a look. “Who did we lose?”

Mike glanced that way. He had not moved. From where Kurt sat he recognized Mike sized them all up but not in the manner Karofsky would.

“What did he do,” Santana asked.

“He did nothing.” Mr. Shu eyes slowly moved about the room.

“Sub-lieutenant Schuester offered me a fresh start.” Mike admitted. He almost sounded embarrassed.

“I went to eleven on business and I saw Mike preforming some rather exciting steps off by himself.” Mr. Shu placed a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “We have a vacancy so I recruited him.”

“Recruited him for what?” Rachel sat forward. In the process her chair skidded across the floor toward Finn.

The sub-lieutenant grinned. “He is going to teach you all to dance.”

“What?” Artie pointed at himself. “Really?”

“Dance?” Mercedes questioned at the same time. Frowning, she looked put out.

Hiding a smirk, Kurt could not imagine Mercedes dancing. She could belt out a song but he considered her mobility challenged compared to Artie. She and Kurt trained together in Beasties’ torture camp. Unlike Kurt, she did not seem to care about her body. Kurt on the other hand liked how all the work made him look. He just did not like sweating.

Finn stared at Mike. “We’re going to dance?”

“Yes.” Schuester nodded.

“Great another reason to make us look like fools.” Santana snarled. Her eyes went to Rachel.

Sitting there, Kurt kept his thoughts to himself. Looking down he closed his eyes for more than a blink. Hazel twirled across darkened vision like swirling rain in the wind. Two hazy men in morning jackets suitable for the early eighteen hundreds stood on a hill under huge tree. One pressed the other against the rough trunk while he pulled his fingers through damp curly hair. Five o’clock shadow burned as their mouths pressed together.

Coils of fog rolled up between the two lowers drawing them away into the distance. Only the tree remained. Mists formed into a bench with a cloudy teenager sitting on it reading a book. Another teenager cloaked in folds of transparent grey with subtle hints of blue and tints of red walked up as said something. The book folded away as the interloper sat. Words passed between them and in that odd way Kurt recognized a single word—friends. The lips of the boy who interrupted curled up causing grey fumes to roll up to the eyes flickering of hazel.

Kurt blinked and again he saw honey brown. Tender warmth spread through his chest sending a quiver up his spine. The calm he felt allowed him to understand the conversation about him had not shifted. Time seemed to stand still until her exhausted his lungs.

Finn’s face moved slightly from side to side as if he tried to understand something. His brow pulled into the middle. “Okay, we’re all here. So, tell us Sub-lieutenant Schuester, what’s going on?”

“The New Directions?” Mr. Shu cast his arms out.

Eleven teenagers started back. The room fell silent. The cobwebs inside Kurt’s head blew away.

“New Directions?” Rachel looked confused.

Mr. Shu’s grinned. “The New Directions will be the team representing lander twenty one in the upcoming competition.”

Rachel leaned forward with one of those looked on her face. “What competition?”

“Song and choreography.” The sub-lieutenant gazed directly into Rachel’s eyes.

Suddenly Rachel’s hand came up to her face. Flush with excitement she bounced up and down in her chair. Her face brightened and she started to clap. “As in on stage.”

Mr. Shu nodded.

“This is amazing.” Rachel stood and slowly spun about. “On stage singing in front of a crowd.”

Rolling his eyes, Kurt knew nothing good would come out of this.

Santana’s chin hung down. A finger coming up she said in a shallow tone that grew louder with each word. “No, no, no, no . . . no!”

Turning to face Santana, Rachel abruptly looked to Sub-lieutenant Schuester, “It’s sanctioned.”

The officer glanced at Kurt. “Mr. Hummel is my witness. The captain supports this one hundred percent.”

“Lieutenant Sylvester doesn’t.” Kurt shifted in his chair.

Several teenagers glanced at the boy with the high pitched voice.

Grinning, Mr. Shu said, “Lieutenant Sylvester does not have to like it. Captain Degras has given me the go ahead. Each lander will be fielding one or more teams. The teams in a spoke will compete until there is a winner for that spoke. Then the winners for each spoke will compete for the Arc Trophy.”

“Who would want to listen to us sing?” Tina looked uncomfortable.

“The captain for one.” The sub-lieutenant started to pace. “He’s part of the officer’s chorus.”

Officer’s chorus? Really? Did Wacky Sue get cut? Kurt almost laughed.

“This is . . . no, no, a thousand times, no.” Santana’s arms flayed about.

“I want to sing,” Rachel pipped up.

Spinning in her chair, Santana growled. “Look what happened last time, big nose.”

“That’s enough Santana.” Mr. Shu walked toward her. “That will not happen again. This is structured and I think you will find there is more support than you think. Lander three has already fielded three teams and will probably compete internally for the honour of going against the other landers in that spoke. The eleven of you have already revealed you like singing. You do want to sing, don’t you? Isn’t that why you went to seventy two?”

“Yes.” Rachel turned around waving her arms looking for support.

Santana rolled her eyes and then Artie rode forward accepting the challenge. Slowly they all agreed leaving only Santana and Kurt facing off. Everyone looked to them with wishful expressions. One of Kurt’s eyebrows went up and the girl lips formed into a frown.

“Come on!” Rachel screeched still waving her arms about.

Santana glared at her.

Wanting to milk it for all its worth, Kurt wanted Santana to feel the pressure. Like the rest of them she loved singing but her pride got in the way. Knowing she would have to give in first, Kurt held out a few seconds longer and then feigned a sorry expression. He conceded, “Yes.”

Rachel let out a whoop and then stared at Santana.

“Come on Santana,” Brittany pleaded with a sweet smirk.

The Latino girl gave Brittany a flat look and then turned her attention to the sub-lieutenant. “Who chooses the music?”

“I do for the most part.” Mr. Shu responded.

“And how do we know you can even sing?” Santana continued to press.

Mr. Shu voice rose in the modern style. His voice carried through the room causing several of the teenagers to take note. Just as it looked as if he would give in, he ramped it up into complicated mismatched notes.

Mouth slightly agape, Santana leaned back in her chair. Nodding, she broke the quiet. “I guess you can hold a tune unlike some of us.”

Heat rose in Kurt’s cheeks. Foolishly he had thought friends would satisfy the loneliness he felt. His assumption proved wrong.

Brittany jumped up and gave Santana a quick, innocent hug.

Mr. Shu put his hands up. “Let’s discuss the ground rules.”

Eleven sets of young eyes focused on the sub-lieutenant.

Sub-lieutenant Schuester paced. “The competitions begins in six months so we have time to prepare. The finals will be during the New Year celebrations. It will be broadcast throughout the entire ship with everyone voting. Each team must have twelve singers which makes us one person short.”

“We can take care of that,” Rachel put her hand up volunteering.

Santana pointed at bossy girl. “No you don’t.”

“We don’t have to deal with that at this moment.” Schuester walked over to the large screen and tapped it. The computer loaded up a file he has obviously pre-arranged. An image of silver tube with silvery bumps running along one side revealed itself. “Does anyone know what this is?”

No one spoke at first. Puzzled looked crossed several faces. Eventually Quinn said, “A stir rod of some sort?”

“It’s a musical instrument called a flute.” The officer pointed. “The oldest known version of this instrument dates back about forty thousand years. This example it the last evolution. You hold it sideways and blow air across the mouth piece. Pressing the keys make different sounds.”

“Cool,” Sam stared at it with a kind of fondness. “Do you have a picture of a guitar?”

The sub-lieutenant regard Sam for a second. “You play?”

“Yup. I have one in at my cubicle.” Sam smiled.

“Will you bring it next class, Sam?” Mr. Shu nodded as his lips stretched into a grin.

The blond boy enthusiastically nodded.

Kurt gave Sam an impressed look.

“Are we going to have to learn to play that flute or guitar thing?” Mercedes asked. Her head lay slightly to one side studying the odd image.

The sub-lieutenant replied, “No. There is another program that will teach people how to play some of these ancient instruments.”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” Kurt piped up.

“Why would you want to do that, when we can use these,” Finn pointed at the computers on the stands resting against the wall. Complicated algorithms produced the clashing noted of modern music. The performer only had to tap the screen.

Mr. Shu ignored the comment and ran a finger along the screen. The image changed revealing an instrument with a curving body that reminded of a shapely woman. The thin neck extended out from the larger part ending in a wide, flat area. Several strings ran up the length. A long, thin stick with many stings packed close together rested beside it. “What is this?”

Kurt stared as if he tried to remember. “A cello?”

“Close Kurt.” Mr. Shu smiled at him.

“How would you know?” Quinn gave Kurt a long look.

Kurt sarcastically replied, “Dah, history is one of my favourite subjects.”

“Old stuff, old music,” Santana muttered just loud enough for the others to hear.

Waving a hand before him, Sub-lieutenant Schuester said. “There is no stupid answers and lots of room for education.”

“Right.” Santana muttered.

Mr. Shu smiled at Kurt. “A cello is held between the legs and played by running the rod, called a bow, over the stings. You change the notes by using your fingers to cut off the vibrations through the thick strings. What we have here is a violin which became popular during the fifteen hundreds. You play it by holding it under her chin against your collar bone.”

A finger touched the screen and something new took the violin’s place. The instrument stood on a stand with four legs and looked like a half ball cut off midway with something pulled across it. “And this.”

“A drum.” Finn proudly stated. “I had something like it at the factory. In fact I had three different sized ones.”

“Your right Finn. This is a kettle drum one of the largest instruments of its type.” The officer tapped part of the screen causing a keyboard to appear in the air at the bottom of the monitor. Typing, the display changed. “Is this what you had Finn?”

Finn looked suddenly excited. “Yes, well something very close to it.”

“A set of drums made popular in the mid nineteen hundreds with the advent of something called rock and roll. They existed before that but the cutting edge style of music brought them into the heyday.” Schuester pushed a finger against the screen. “And this?”

Everyone stared at a huge instrument made of a curving, glossy black material standing on three legs. Six feet long and five wide a fourth limb reached down toward the floor though it did not quiet make it. The bulk of the instrument had a uniform height but, what may be, the front cut away into a low shelf. White with offset black lines looked to be painted on that section.

Staring Kurt’s mind flashed back to the day his mom took him to that museum. They had a cello there but a young mind had misjudged the size. One room had several examples of the apparatus before him.

Brittany spoke up in her odd, innocent way. “It looks like cow feeder.”

Forehead scrunching up, Kurt glared at the quirky blond. “Brittany, that’s a piano.”

“Bravo Kurt.” Schuester beamed. “This a baby grand piano. This instrument came in several sizes but had the same number of keys.”

Artie looked puzzled. “Keys?”

Mr. Shu pointed at the black and white stripes. “These are the keys. You play this instrument with two hands working your fingers to press down on the keys. Each key connects to a hammer that strikes a string. The strings are different lengths and make different notes.”

Sitting there Tina made a face. “What does this all have to do with use?’

“Excellent question, Tina.” Sub-lieutenant Schuester pointed at her as he looked to each of them. “These instruments and many more are part of our history. To add a challenge to the competition and to create innovation, each competition will have theme.”

“Theme?” Santana’s eyebrows went up.

“Are you telling us we are going to be singing in styles like, country?” Sam broke his solitude. The blond kid sat forward.

“Yes.” Mr. Shu crossed his arms.

Sam grinned.

A cloud rolled over Santana’s face but Artie asked the question first, “Why?”

“It’s part of our history.” Sub-lieutenant Schuester stood in front of the viewing screen. “It’s something that should not lost. We’re embarking on an expedition to reinvent the human race. Why shouldn’t we use the past to help us define our new reality? If not we might have stayed and allowed the corporations to dictate the aspects of our lives.”

Finn gave Mr. Shu a puzzled looked and then his express suddenly changed. “I get it.”

“Yeah,” Quinn jumped at the opportunity shifted closer to the jock. “Let’s make something new.”

Niffed, Rachel added, “What other styles?”

Mr. Shu winked at Sam, “There’s jazz, opera, hip hop, baroque, rock and soft rock and so much more.”

Bouncing in his chair, Kurt exclaimed, “Yes!”

Someone swore under her breath with a Latino accent.

The sub-lieutenant disregarded the rude outburst. “We’re going to start right at the beginning with Finn’s drums. Now I want you to split into pairs and pull one of the computers over. Interface with your implant and we will get started.”

Rachel and Quinn sprinted to Finn. Brittany strolled over to the looser. Rachel grudgingly teamed up with her. Finn gave Rachel a sad look but Quinn had his arm in a vice grip. Sam turned to Mercedes and Tina to Mike. That left Santana, Artie and Kurt to use the last machine. As soon as they had all logged in and set up their implants the sub-lieutenant started. They viewed the history of drums but the computer sent extended knowledge directly to the consciousness. After a good night’s sleep, the brain would have sorted it all out.

Five weeks later the eleven teenagers had barely sung a note. The hour long class usually stretched into two cutting into their free time before dinner. Sub-lieutenant Schuester pushed and in time frustration settled in.

“Why are we learning all this stuff?” Santana blurt out one afternoon. “It’s not as if we are going to play all those pathetic antiques.”

Mr. Shu turned from the monitor. “You’re right, Santana, you may never play those wonderful antiques but you need to know of them and the sounds they make when we get to the music.”

“Let’s just get to the singing?” Quinn leaned back with her arms across her chest. Her lips pushed out into a pout. Her eyes kept going to Rachel and Finn. Time made those two closer.

The sub-lieutenant started to answer but one the adult crew knocked on the open door. Stepping in, she handed something to him. Reading, he made a face. The two talked for a moment and then Mr. Shu nodded. Looking over his shoulder he vanished into the hall.

“What do you all think?” Artie suddenly asked.

“We keep going,” Rachel piped up.

“It has been fun,” Finn commented.

Brittany’s head bobbed back and forth. “Like puppies and ice cream.”

That got her a look from others.

Kurt laughed. “Brittany, you’re one of a kind.”

The blond girl smiled. “Things are simpler when we sing.”

“I’ll agree, but I still have to wonder where all this is going,” Mike stated.

Kurt liked Mike. In his quiet way he stood up for himself. He could move his body in ways Kurt could not imagine. Not only could he do the boring, modern stuff somehow he had learned older styles such as the waltz and swing. Shortly after demonstrating his moves, Kurt asked Mike if he could teach him. Mike wanted to practice so he agreed. The two met every couple of days in the observation room by the atrium.

Each time he went, Kurt found himself looking outside and his eyes wondered to that star. The first time he noticed the blue white brightness he did not think much of it but as the days went on, he felt subtle longing in his heart. Again, he considered his sanity but when he closed his eyes hazel mollified conflicting emotions. Three week after he started to study with Mike he questioned his motives. Each time he glanced that way, the intensity grabbed him.

To concentrate, Kurt stayed on the side of the observation lounge where the angle did not permit easy viewing. Instead he found himself gazing at seventy two. Those elongated oval things remained lined up to the hull. A month and a half after falling stone frightened him half of the peculiar pods could no longer be seen. For a while he considered what could be worse—staring at a star or the place of his greatest shame.

“Right, what do you want me to sing?” Rachel announced as he stood. “I have a list of songs I think you would all like to hear but I wanted your opinion.”

“Are you kidding?” Quinn rolled her eyes.

Rachel’s nose rose ever so slightly as she turned to Quinn. “I need the practice and you need the practice backing me up.”

“No way, queenie,” Santana snickered.

“Forget it,” Mercedes said at more or less the same time.

“We can always learn to play some instruments. Sam has his guitar with him, he could . . .” Kurt stopped when someone cut him off.

“Why would we want to learn that crap?” Santana watched the door.

“Why don’t you put a cork in it?” Rachel put her hand on her hips. “That crap as you call it, makes music.”

“Listen here big nose, why don’t you just pretend you have talent.” Sitting in the back row, Santana leaned forward to threaten Rachel. Finn puffed up.

Letting out a sigh, Kurt glanced at Santana. She had been complaining for the past fifteen days. She did not like this. Why do are we doing this? What’s the point? Rachel, Mercedes, Quinn and her got into it more than once though not always at the same time. The rest just cowered and waited. Finn, Artie and Tina added their opinions now and then but mostly stayed out of it. Sam and Mike looked a bit mystified at times. Brittany just rolled along in her own little world though once in a while she got angry.

Drawing herself up as if ready to challenge, Rachel came to a halt when Finn’s hand suddenly fell on her arm. She gave him a look and then settled back down.

Fed up, Kurt abruptly disclosed. “This is getting tedious.”

“Can we now speak to the pixey in the room,” Santana stood up and glared at Kurt. “Let’s paint LOSER on our backs. That music is nothing more than vocal masturbation.”

“For god’s sake!” Kurt shook his head.

Santana’s face scrunched up. “You did this Hummel. You and that damned background . . . sh . . . stuff. Well, congratulations now you get to dress like some fantasy transvestite in . . . what do the call them . . . high heels and a pasted on face.”

Kurt’s face flushed red. “For heaven’s sake Santana live a little and haul that cork out of your ass. It’s only music!”

Eyes turned his way. Kurt never lost his temper.

Santana rolled on. “Look here Hummel, when you stop whining over your lack of manhood and grow a real voice, then you be may try and pull that cork out of my ass, Flufferboy.”

“That was uncalled for.” Mr. Shu called from the door. He walked back into the class. “Santana, sit down.”

Brow furrowed, Kurt yelled at the Latino girl. “Listen here you sanctimonious brood cow, this ship doesn’t spin on your menopausal moods. Why don’t you just . . .”

“Mr. Hummel that’s enough.” The sub-lieutenant stopped in the center of the room.

Frowning Kurt, argued. “If you took more control perhaps . . .”

“I said, that’s enough, Mr. Hummel.” Mr. Shu looked less than pleased.

Kurt blurt out. “Jesus, ease up Shu and get . . .”

Clapping from the door shut Kurt up. Lieutenant Sylvester leaned against the doorframe with one of her patented grins. “Schuester you’re handling this bevy of delinquents in your usual inept fashion. Much like your farts, they’re dysfunctional.”

Controlling himself, he sub-lieutenant turned to face his superior. “May I help you, mam?”

“No, not really, I just came to see who the misfits are doing. If they don’t like incarceration, I’m sure I can find a few toilets that needs cleaning. I think I have a dozen toothbrushes with one or two bristles.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Mr. Shu politely replied.

Strolling past the sub-lieutenant, Wacky Sue glared at Kurt. “No extra bruises Fairycakes?”

A shudder ran up Kurt’s back as his flushed.

Chuckling Lieutenant Sylvester tapped the screen. The demonstration on how to play a harp faded and the keyboard materialized in the air at the bottom of the monitor. Typing, suddenly the beautifully exotic face of a young Chinese teenager filled the screen. Accompanied by less than modern music, she sang with the most amazing pitch and diction.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=raMRIj1zHvw The singing in the video is in Chinese from the movie Red Cliff. The translation of the lyrics can be found at http://lyricstranslate.com/en/xin-zhan-%E5%BF%83%E3%83%BB%E6%88%98-red-cliff-war-heart.html)

 

翻天覆地携手浪逐浪  
_(Earth shattering hand holding waves after waves)_  
千杯不醉只醉月光  
_(Drunk not by a thousand cups but by the moonlight)_  
会心一笑不必讲  
_(A knowing smile needs no elaboration)_  
对看一切都雪亮  
_(Everything seen is dazzling)_

 

赤手空拳心机里攻防  
_(Empty handed scheming to attack)_  
铁壁铜墙也敢碰撞  
_(Daring even to knock down metal and copper walls)_  
今生不枉这一趟 烈火 烧出凤凰  
_(Would be worthwhile in this life for a phoenix to emerge from the flames)_

 

把累风干 这一仗 心的战场  
_(Tired winds dry this battle of the heart)_  
赢得漂亮 一起上 输也坦荡  
_(Together embarking on a beautiful victory or an unselfish loss)_  
谁怕也长 狂啸当歌 相知 最难忘  
_(Who is afraid still grows, wild roars like music, to know each other is hardest to forget)_  
滚滚长江 滚烫 依旧在胸膛  
_(Rolling rivers, hot still kept close to the chest)_  
狂啸当歌 何妨 惊涛裂岸 不枉  
_(Wild roars as music, why not shock waves and split shores, it'd be worthwhile)_

 

拖口成句意短却情长  
_(Drag words into sentences; short meaning but long tales)_  
千杯不醉只醉月光  
_(Drunk not by a thousand cups but by the moonlight)_  
会心一笑不必讲  
_(A knowing smile needs no elaboration)_  
对看 一些都雪亮  
_(Most things seen are dazzling)_

 

心理交战 这一仗 心的战场  
_(Psychological war; this is a battle of the heart)_  
以战止战 一起上 痛快一场  
_(To embark on a fight to the end; an enjoyable battle)_  
谁怕夜长 狂啸当歌 相知 最难忘  
_(Who is afraid of long nights, wild roars like music, to know each other is hardest to forget)_  
滚滚长江 滚烫 依旧在胸膛  
_(Rolling rivers, hot still kept close to the chest)_  
狂啸当歌 何妨 惊涛裂岸 不枉  
_(Wild roars as music, why not shock waves and split shores, it'd be worthwhile)_

 

这一刻 在何方 这一杯 我先干  
_(In this moment anywhere; I'll toast this first glass)_  
为你受过伤 是我的勋章  
_(To suffer for you is my honour)_  
多少的悲欢 都尽付笑谈  
_(To suffer for you is my honour)_  
今夜这月光 先喝光  
_(Tonight under the moonlight; let's drink to it.)_

 

“Wow!” Kurt exclaimed. He may not have understood the language, those high, stunning tones raised goosebumps on his arm and neck.

“What was that?” Artie’s soft voice revealed awe.

“Chinese, Rollerboy,” Lieutenant Sylvester acknowledged. “Lander eight has a number of settlers who learned of the old ways from the operators of their farm. Changying and four friends have been singing since we woke you all up.”

Kurt gulped.

“I just wanted to show you what you’re up against, Schuester.” The lieutenant turned and leered at her subordinate. “Oh, I heard you were down one. Puckerman, get you scrawny ass in here!”

Bald on the sides with a strip of hair in the middle, Karofsky’s favourite partner in crime trotted into the room. He did not look happy. He glared art Kurt and Rachel.


	11. Fight

Sub-lieutenant Schuester cased off after his superior calling out her first name. That left eleven teenagers sitting in silence staring an interloper. The object of their consternation, Noah Puckerman, stood there watching the door with a dumbfounded look on his face. It soon faded as his gaze shifted to the teens staring at him. 

His nemesis! Kurt found his luck hard to believe. Repulsion burst into his chest. For a second the wanted to run but then others stood about him. Most of them had been bullied by Puckerman in some form or another. Their presence making him feel safe. His first thought had been that it all been a joke but then it settled in—Wacky Sue had her revenge. Obviously she had placed the bully here to torment him. The look on her face when she found him outside her office spoke volumes. She hated him. Kurt felt it deep down in his stomach and this only proved it. Seventy two had not been placed out of bounds until recently. Maybe she’s pissed on him because could not argue with the captain. 

The shape of his face and that hair. Something tinkled between his legs and Kurt felt suddenly embarrassed. Heat rose up his neck as something stretched into his underwear with the thought of the handsome senior officer. How? Stupid? Yet, the sight of the captain melted Kurt down to the bottom of his feet. Even though he had only seen him three times, the man mesmerized. A crush, it had to be a crush. Again, something told him no.

Kurt stumbled back and he found himself bashing into the wall. Why did he think of this now? Hatred and anger stood only a few short feet away but then, Puckerman seemed so vulnerable and small. Without Karofsky or his goons, the teenager seemed diffident. Then it struck Kurt—Puckerman had been forced into this. 

The idea of the bully might be forced into anything amazed Kurt. Would Wacky Sue go that far? Kurt had no comprehension. The oddball lieutenant had made examples of Karofsky and his clan but then nothing changed. The ring leader continued to leer and torment but . . . Kurt’s found himself shifting gears. A shudder ran up his back and he pulled his eyes away. 

No one spoke or moved. It felt dreamlike. Rachel sat there in disbelief and then her eyes fell on Finn. Quinn hovered always close to the jock and just out of reach of Rachel. Tina seemed to gravitate between Artie and the newcomer, Mike. Brittany hung out mostly with Santana and Sam, well he did whatever Sam did. Mercedes sat by herself with that brooding race watching. 

A shiver ran up Kurt’s back when movement caught Kurt’s attention. Mike stood. Walking toward Puckerman offering his hand in friendship. He had no idea who he dealt with. 

The teen with the mohawk regarded Mike with distain but made no move to depart. The indifference bothered Kurt but then he noticed a flicker in the corner of Puckerman’s eye. The bully watched Kurt in a manner he did not recognized.

“Hi, I’m Mike,” the new guy stated with a jovial look on his face.

Puckerman stared at the hand for a moment and then his lips turned up into a snarl. He said nothing as he turned away to face Finn.

Chin dropping, Mike just stood there staring. Slowly he looked back at Tina, she shrugged. With her head she indicated he should sit. Confused, Mike returned to his seat. 

A standoff between two old comrades electrified the air. Pushing himself back into the wall Kurt fretted. Karofsky had not taken Finn’s defection well. Puckerman and a couple of others had been sent to teach the jock a lesson. One of the junior officers intervened. Both sides received extra duty cleaning the lander’s public areas. Unhappy Finn mopped around until Rachel pulled him out of it with soft talk. Kurt had to admit they made an interesting couple. 

Bully and former bully said nothing and the longer it lasted the worse it got. Suddenly. Finn broke the silence. Trying to remain upbeat, the jock said with an even tone. “Hey Puck.” 

The look on the other teen did not change. He stared across the room not moving and then his lower lip pulled up over his upper. Eyes narrowing, Puckerman growled, “Traitor! You leave us for what . . . these people.”

Many of the teenagers glanced at one another. Mike looked to Artie and asked, “Is there something wrong?”

Artie’s eyes rolled toward Puckerman who cut in before the boy in the wheelchair could say a word. “Yeah, stuck with a bunch of losers.”

“Loser?” Rachel shot back. 

“Yeah, big lips, loser.” Puckerman laughed.

Santana pulled herself upright. She had been leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. “Who are you calling a loser?” 

Puckerman held his hand up over his head with the thumb out and the index finger pointing up. “You, big ass, L . . . loser!”

“Loser! Loser!” Santana roared. Brittany placed a hand on Santana’s knee and she drew in a deep, haggard breath and did nothing. 

“Jesus, Finn, you drop us cool kids for his lot of . . . failures. Pussy got you.” Puckerman laughed and then leered at Rachel.

Shooting to his feet, Finn made a step toward Puckerman. “Listen here . . .”

“Listen to what, your grunting when you fuck her!” Puckerman also stepped closer.

Rachel’s face flushed red. Swallowing, Finn inched nearer. “Hey!”

“Oh, tough boy. Finally going to fight me, pussyboy?”

“No, Puck, I’m not.”

“Lost your balls in . . .”

“Woo, that enough baldy.” Santana stood up in the back row. “Back off leatherbrains.”

Brittany said something in hope Santana would calm down.

Glaring at the spirited Latino girl, Puckerman laughed. “Look here, the Latin pig? Your Finn’s body guard or just another cast off.”

“That’s enough Puck!” Finn’s voice sounded menacing. 

“Hay, you get a back bone only when your bitches stand up for you.” Puckerman pointed at Santana and Rachel.

Finn stomped closer but Rachel’s hand on his forearm pulled him up short.

Puckerman laughed. “Pussy whipped. You doing the other blonds and that fluffer?”

Kurt’s felt his heart pound against his chest. 

Puckerman cast an accusing finger in Kurt’s direction. “A Jew, a taco and a . . . I have no idea what the queer is. Do the three of you take turns fucking Fairycakes?”

“Listen here, dog face!” Santana stepped down to the floor. Behind her Brittany reach out to restrain her but not fast enough.

“Look the chihauhau. You come to bite my ankles,” Puckerman chuckled. 

“I will show you biting,” Santana yelled back. Brittany tried to restrain her. 

Grabbing his crotch with one hand and patting his thigh with the other, Puckerman taunted. “Come her doggie, doggie, doggie. Be a good bitch, come on.”

Santana launched at Puckerman who stood his ground. With surprising speed his fist came up striking the teenager girl in the side of the face. Spinning around, Santana spat out blood. From behind Mike, Sam, Quinn and Brittany grabbed her. Fighting to free herself, Santana yelled at Puckerman in her native tongue.

Laughing, Puckerman continued to grab his crotch. “Need a taste?”

Finn jumped his former mate with a specular tackle. Puckerman smashed into the wall with a loud thud and a muted grunt. Finn’s fist rose and he thrust into the other boy’s face pushing it to the right. Winding up again, Puckerman took advantage of the break and kicked up with his knee. Crashing into Finn thigh, Rachel screamed. Santana continued to yell in the back ground. Grabbing the back of Artie’s chair, Mercedes pushed him out of the danger zone. 

Tumbling to the floor, Finn and Puckerman rolled about striking one another. A fist pounded into Finn’s face forcing him back. Puckerman tried to roll away but the jock grappled him with his strong legs. Puckerman called out and repeatedly smashed his fist into Finn’s chest and face. Finally he leaned in and bite Finn’s cheek. Shouting, the jock wheeled back releasing Puckerman who crawled to his feet. Blood dripped to the floor.

Pulling himself away from Santana. Sam charged into the fray pushing Puckerman into the wall. Retaliating, Puckerman knee connected with Sam’s crotch sending the boy screaming to the floor. From the side Mike race forward. Transitioning into dance like pose, his foot came up and connected with Puckerman’s chest. The bully fell back almost on top of Kurt. 

Yelping, Kurt slid up the wall toward the raised chairs. Unprepared for any of this he had no idea to do. Fighting. He did not know how to fight. 

Pulling himself up Puckerman spat blood. Then, with a surprising move, he launched himself Kurt who scampered back. The bully would have had him if he had not been hauled down by Mike and Finn. Fighting back, his fist stuck Mike in the side of the face sending him spinning again the wall. The lean dancer slid to the floor and did not move. 

Pushing himself into the corner, the sight of violence and blood terrified Kurt. Re-experiencing boots and hands knocking him senseless, Kurt’s hands involuntarily gripped the back of his thighs as he made himself as small as possible. Slouching down the place where two walls joined nerves flared and his back stiffened. The muscles there had not fully healed as of yet. Gripped with fear, Kurt closed his eyes and instantaneously found himself engrossed in a flash of hazel. The pump inside his chest jumped as grey clouds grew up around him. Insubstantial arms wrapped around him drawing him close. The strong embrace drew the fear from him. Then he felt something wet against his cheek as if someone kissed him. Utterly shocked, the sensation of stubble pressed against smooth skin caused his balance to fail. Topping to his side, his eyes flung open. 

The circumstances in the room had not changed much other than the angle in which he viewed. Puckerman and Finn had crawled to their feet. Grappling against the wall they threw punches at one another. Sam had managed to crawl toward the front of the room where now lay holding his crotched. He looked to be in terrible pain. Releasing Santana, Tina ran to Sam. Squished up against the wall, Mike remained still and unreachable. From behind, Rachel tugged on Finn who bled from the nose and lip. By the bleachers Quinn and Brittany fought a losing battle in their efforts to restrain a vocal Santana. Mercedes guarded Artie. 

Puckerman’s fist piled into Finn’s jaw sending the jock flying back a couple of steps. Spinning around the bully’s elbow smashed into Rachel sending her to the floor. Hands grabbed Puckerman’s back and he found himself being dragged down again. The two rolled about forcing Kurt to scamper away. Then Puckerman seemed to break free and he made a run for the door. 

At that moment, Santana launched herself free. Bolting across the room she threw herself onto Puckerman’s back. Behind her Brittany called out as Quinn took a few steps toward the fray only to stop. Puckerman rode backward crushing Santana against the wall behind him. Finn bashed into him adding to Santana’s pain. As the two boys rolled away, she tumbled to the floor gasping for breath. 

Horrified Kurt pushed himself back into the corner in an attempt to hide. His stomach rolled at the sight of the blood. Red liquid gushed from Rachel’s lip and splatter marked the floors and walls. Closing his eyes in an effort to keep his lunch down sparkling hazel returned. Those arms still held him. The revulsion of his beating faded away into those soft, wonderful words that had flashed in his head. Someone leaned into his shoulder from behind whispering into his ear. Curly hair tickled skin and he could smell something sweet on the breath crossing over his cheek. 

The sound of something metallic smashing to the floor forced Kurt’s eyes open. Looking along the length of the wall his eyes fell upon fire equipment. Even though each room had a gas fire suppression system, they also had hand held fire extinguishers. Where the thought and strength came from Kurt did not know but he hauled himself to his feet. Breaking the seal to the fire equipment, Kurt pulled the tank from the wall. Surprisingly, he managed to hold the weight of the two foot tall metal cylinder. He had never thought himself that strong. Pulling the pin he pointed it and pressed the control button on the top. Fine white powder sprayed out all over the place. 

The shock broke the fighting up. Confused and coughing the combatants separated as they stumbled back. Blood dripping from his lip and nose, Finn hunched over staring at Puckerman through the mass of white. The bully leaned against the wall holding a hand against his chest. Quinn raced to help Finn.

Fire extinguisher in hand, Kurt stomping over to the bully. Standing there, he had no real idea what he did. 

“Now that I’m down, you want your kick.” Puckerman spat blood at Kurt. 

Watching the sickly red gob land short of the target, Kurt’s stomach heaved. His face hardened and he closed his eyes. Hazel and those arms returned. Letting out a long breath the tension evaporated. Then Kurt looked at Puckerman and said in a soft tone. “Can you sing?”

“What?” Came from more than one source at the same time. Puckerman looked shocked as if he expected something completely different.

“Can you sing?” Anger told him to kick the teenager. The memory of those inconsistent arms about him caused Kurt to temper his emotions and words.

“Kurt?” Santana yelled at the boy with the metal tube in his hands.

Ignoring it, Kurt asked again in a tone filled with compassion. “Puckerman, can you sing!?”

The bully just stood there staring. His eyes gave away his conflict.

Huffing air, Finn stared at Kurt as if he tried to figure things out. He glanced at the others. 

“What the hell’s going on?!” Someone yelled from the door. The Beast stood there with another adult behind her. Surrounded a cloud of thinning white, her face looked like a thunder clap.

“You que. . .” Puckerman’s snarl faded as his eyes went to the door.

Kurt almost dropped the canister. Juggling it, he managed to carefully putting it down. The metal casing made a clinking sound when it the floor. Suddenly ashamed of himself he gulping. Unexpectedly turning toward the corner and threw up. Forcing his eyes shut so that he did not see his lunch come up, once more he felt those arms but his time one lay across his back. The sensation of hair brushing against his neck tantalized.

Other than the sound of Kurt passing the food in his stomach, no one spoke. Everyone stood frozen in place. Quinn leaned into Finn and Brittany aided Rachel. Santana caught her breath while Sam lay curled up in a ball on the floor with Tina doing what she can to sooth him. Artie and Mercedes gapped. Mike still did not move. 

Kurt coughed up a chuck of something and hatefully swallowed it again. The taste caused his face to pulls together and he closed his eyes. Hazel returned and again he felt fingers on his back. The chill ran up his spine felt sensually different. His crotched hardened and his face flashed red. 

“Who start this?” the Beast demanded, hand on her hips.

Finn pointed at Puckerman and Puckerman at Finn. All sorts of chatter rose from everyone else basically blaming Puckerman. Kurt remained utterly quiet. 

“Quiet!” Beiste roared. Glancing at the crew member she said, “Call for Owen and a couple of nurses. Let the lieutenant know.” 

The mid-thirties man stepped out looking for a communications console.

Turning her attention back to the kids, Sub-lieutenant Beiste ordered, “All of you keep quiet and gather against the back wall. Puckerman and Hudson, you stay where you are.”

No one shifted.

“Move!” the Beast yelled.

The kids did exactly what they had been told accept Finn who went for Rachel. The Beast growled at him and he stayed put. Brittany went to help Rachel while Santana slowly climbed to her feet. Quinn ran over to look at Mike. Sub-lieutenant Beiste jointed her. Pressed a hand down upon the boy’s neck she looked suddenly relieved. In an uncharacteristic act she smiled at Quinn. 

Left on his own close to the edge of the main crowd, Kurt held off to the side tasting the bile his mouth. It made him swallow hard a couple of times. He desperately wanted a glass of water and a toothbrush. 

Several minutes later Sub-lieutenant Pillsbury stood in the door gapping. Two crew members stood off to one side watching while Nurse Monico studied Rachel’s face. Nurse Carmen hovered over Puckerman who she got to sit down. Doctor Owen used a small mechanical device on Mike. Other assorted teens sat about in one large bunch. Standing next to the monitor, Finn held a something cold against his bloody cheek and nose. The jock could not take his eyes off of Rachel. He looked worried.

Schuester and Sylvester eventually showed up after several long moments. The two stood behind Pillsbury staring. Schuester looked upset and shocked. Lieutenant Sylvester gleefully gazed at the dishevelled teens. Kurt could see the wheels turning in her head as her face revealed sweet anger. The smell form the corner caused his stomach made a slow turn and he choked back another heave. The boy looked to his friends who watched the lander’s senior officer.

Rudely pushing past the councillor, the lieutenant stomped into the room. “Look at . . . Schuester what a mess. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Me?” Sub-lieutenant Schuester politely walked passed Pillsbury with a smile.

“You wanted this and look at what happened cloudierhead.” The lieutenant turned and stared at the man who created the arts program. “You’re a disgrace. I’ll be reporting to Higgins and will be recommending this rat bag troop be sent to the pig pens where they belong.”

Now sitting between Artie and Mercedes, Kurt held her hand. The three of them had not spoken a word. Luckily his plus sized friend had some candy on her. It removed the foul taste from his month. 

Turning to Sub-lieutenant Schuester, Sylvester smirked. “You’ve done a wonderful job of teaching your charges how to battle one another. Look at all the blood and . . . other stuff.”

Kurt loudly gagged. His face flushed red when Wacky Sue’s head twisted in his directly. He slouched down.

Mr. Shu did not respond. His eyes paused on each teenager. He looked disappointed. 

“Well, now, what do I do with all of you? Fighting can’t be condoned.” The lieutenant continued to stare at Kurt. “And you, Mr. Hummel? Once more I find you in the center of controversy. Discharging fire equipment when there is no emergency is a hazard to all on board. You diminish our ability to properly react to emergencies.”

“Lieutenant Sylvester,” Doctor Owen called to her superior. “I need to get this one to the infirmary.”

“Anything thing serious, doctor?” the lieutenant asked.

“A concussion,’ the doctor responded.

“Very well, do what you must doctor.” Sylvester nodded.

Owen snapped her fingers and two technicians hauled a gurney from the hall past. Pillsbury stepped out of the way and further into the room. 

Eyes rolling to Kurt, Sylvester’s face hardened. “Mr. Hummel, perhaps I should ship you off to your playmate Karofsky in eleven.”

A few of the kids looked to Mike who they prepared to lift onto the gurney. He replaced the bully.

“That’s not going to happen, lieutenant,” Schuester stood up to his senior officer. 

“What did you say to me, muffentop?” Sylvester turned to face the junior officer.

Standing his ground, the sub-lieutenant glared at his superior. “I said it would not happen.”

Laughing, Sylvester smirked. “But I can, you sick geek. My lander, my rules and they have been broken . . . again. People have been hurt.”

Schuester glanced at the medical people lifting Mike onto the gurney. 

“Mr. Hummel, step forward.” Sylvester pointed at a spot directly in front of her. 

Mercedes gripped Kurt’s arms tightly but her hand slid away when he stood. Looking straight ahead, his eyes moved from side to side. Those he started to call friends, including, and amazingly, Santana watched. Holding himself rigid, his past confidence drained into a pool of fear. Folding his hands in front of him Kurt stopped at appointed place and waited. 

Grinning, Lieutenant Sylvester looked the boy up and down. Then she walked around him until she ended up at the same spot. “You’re squeaky clean image is tarnished, tickle-me-doe-face.”

“Porcelain.” Kurt whispered more or less to himself.

“What did you say, Mr. Hummel?”

“Porcelain.”

“Really, you think I am going to call you something of your choosing, Fluffer. Well, fruit loops, you have better start packing. You’re the problem here and I won’t have you on my lander. Time to ship you out.”

“But I . . .” Kurt objected but shut his mouth then Wacky Sue’s hand came up just inches from him face.

“But, what, powderpuff.” Sylvester stepped forward and leaned into the boy. “You have something to say. More lies.”

“He didn’t thing,” Quinn piped up. 

Tina spoke up, “He stayed out of it.”

“He stopped the fighting when he sprayed them.” Mercedes added,

“See, your little friends condemn you, Hummel. It’s time that you run along and collect all those . . . awful things you made.” The lieutenant turned to one of the adults. “Mr. Collins, please see that Mr. Hummel is packed. I want him shipped out to eleven before dinner.”

Eleven? Kurt’s face fell and his heart thumped up into his throat. He did not need to see the reactions from the others, he could feel and hear it. Low gasps and huffs of air surrounded him. Karofsky? Dark nagged made him suddenly sweat. Finding it hard to breath, he thought he had driven them away. 

“You do not have the authority to do that.” Councillor Pillsbury broke her silence. She glanced at Schuester.

“Oh, I do, Sub-lieutenant Pillsbury.” Wacky Sue smiled. “It’s all arranged.”

“Nothing came across my desk.” Pillsbury looked puzzled.

The lieutenant gave her a knowing look. “You should read what you sign, sub-lieutenant.” 

“That’s not fair!” Finn suddenly shouted. He stepped away from the monitor. An adult hand feel on his shoulder from behind. He glanced at Santana. “He didn’t fight. I started it.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hudson. You have solved the problem of getting down the bottom of this mess.” Sylvester grinned. “You just got yourself eight weeks of cleaning out the reclaimers.”

Making a horrible face, Santana shrunk back. 

“You won’t be alone Mr. Hudson. The rest of you gang will be with you.” Wacky Sue added. “Except the boy in the chair. He couldn’t have lifted finger in this mess. As for the ring leader, I suspected he will have a full dance card elsewhere.”

Young voices objected. Kurt’s head drooped and he closed his eyes. Once more those arms surrounded him but his time he noted pinky brown within the grey, hazy skin. The touch felt more real and the fear fled from his heart. That person stood right behind him breathing the back of his neck. Again, he felt tinkling shooting up and down his scrotum. Shocked, conscious thought pictured logic causing a hand to come up to have his fingers circle his ear as if indicating crazy. Emotion held fast as if someone covered him with a snuggly warm blanket.

This time the feeling did not completely fade when he opened his eyes. Looking up at the lieutenant Kurt understood. Wacky Sue had not taken a flourishing arts programs with grace. In fact her rants increased. A showing of painting, drawings and sculptures had her crawling up the wall. While she wailed against it teachers happily took on extracurricular activities. Moral rose to new heights. All over the ship, the arts and sports flourished cutting into what Lieutenant Sylvester called the correct education. 

In a steady, even tone, Kurt said, “This isn’t right.”

“Oooo, what is this, the mouse has a back bone.” Sylvester put her hand on her hips and stared at Kurt. “You broke the rules and you’re being shipped out. You don’t have to like it, but your greasy gob will be out of my sight.”

“Lieutenant?” Schuester objected. He looked to Pillsbury for support.

The councillor moved even further into the room giving Doctor Owen and the technicians the room to extract Mike. Pillsbury started to say, “Lieutenant, Sylvester . . .”

The lieutenant glared back. “Sub-Lieutenant?” 

Pillsbury bit her tongue. 

Watching the transaction, Kurt still sensed those arms around him. Without averting his eyes he stated, “Do you hate use that much?”

Sylvester laughed.

To the right Schuester stepped closer as if to intervene. He suddenly stopped when he saw the determination in Kurt’s eyes. 

Kurt did not shrink back. He continued to look right at Wacky Sue. “You dislike seeing use having fun. Is it because were cut from the officer’s chorus. That you can’t sing.”

The lieutenant blinked and her expression changed. Straightening her back, she looked to the rest. “You’re confined to you cubicles until further notice with the communications systems turned off. Get your scrubs on, you will all be knee deep in it after dinner.”

Kurt saw Puckerman in the in the corner of his eyes. Noah appeared uncomfortable. The look in his eyes had shifted from anger to surprise. 

“Mr. Hummel,” Sylvester called to him.

Breaking contact with one of his mimesis, Kurt’s eyebrows pulled together. Blue eyes slowly swiveled up to look at the lieutenant ever though is head did not move. 

“Get your ass out of here.” Sylvester pointed at the door without looking to it. “Mr. Collins.”

Collins did not move. The man stared passed the lieutenant. Sylvester slowly turned. Commander Higgins looked at all of them. 

Kurt’s eyes went wide at the sight. Jake stood behind the commander wearing dirty coveralls. The look on the mechanics face worried Kurt. The man rarely frowned and now he frowned. 

“Commander,” Lieutenant Sylvester turned toward the door. “Just cleaning up the mess after this lot got into a fight.”

“I see that, lieutenant,” Higgins stepped into the room and looked about at all the gaggle of teenagers. Crossing his arms he went on, “Let me guess who started this . . . Puckerman.”

“Mr. Hudson threw the first punch,” Sylvester looked to Sub-lieutenant Beiste who nodded.

“Yes, but did Mr. Hudson really start it.” Higgins kept a rare poker face. “Mr. Puckerman, tell me what happened.”

Noah Puckerman said nothing for a long moment. Sitting against the wall with a nurse hovering over him, his eyes suddenly went to Kurt. They looked oddly compassionate. Swallowing he said, “Lieutenant Sylvester brought me here to join with his lot and be part of the singing group. She mentioned they needed a twelfth, so here I am.”

Higgins nodded. “I see. Lieutenant Sylvester didn’t ask you to start something did she?”

“No . . . sir.” Noah’s eyes went to Kurt again. His head drooped ever so slightly. 

Brows push up, Kurt returned a confused look at first. Something brushed against his neck, something no one else could see. A small smile pushed his lips up. 

Noah’s face brightened.

“You have something else to say, Puckerman?” the commander asked. 

Sucking in his lower lip Puckerman’s eyes remained on Kurt. Sighing he looked as if he surrounded to something. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Lieutenant Sylvester asked me to stir things up.”

Lots of eyes revealed surprise especially Wacky Sue. Her expression however changed just as fast as she defended herself. “Obviously he’s more seriously hurt. Nurse, perhaps you should take him to the infirmary.”

The nurse looked up and said, “Yes, he will have to go. I think he might have a cracked rib. Other than that, cuts and bruises.”

“I suggest you take him there then.” Sylvester nodded. 

Holding Puckerman’s gaze, Kurt did not move. He blinked and each time his lids slid over his eyes he saw hazel staring back at him. Those pinky lips curled up into the most adorable smirk. Again, he did not really know what to think. Trepidation gripped him. He had to be going mad.

“Nurse Carmen, take Puckerman to the infirmary.” Commander Higgins instructed before turning to Sylvester. “Lieutenant, we’ll discuss this in my office. Sub-lieutenant’s Beiste and Schuester please join us. Sub-lieutenant Pillsbury, take care of these children. See that they get what they need.”

Pillsbury nodded and stepped further into the room. 

The commander then glanced at Kurt. Holding the boy’s gaze for a moment he then said, "Sub-lieutenant Schuester, Puckerman will be joining you little band of musicians. He might learn something.”

Schuester shook his head and Kurt pulled his lips. In his peripherals he saw Finn edge over to Rachel and kneel next to her. Quinn looked put out. Puckerman looked surprisingly calm. 

Turning to the door, Higgins hesitated and looked back at the officers. Two of them fell into line. 

“Lieutenant?” Higgins called from the door. 

Sylvester glared at Puckerman as he nurse helped him toward the corridor. Balling up her fists, Lieutenant Sylvester pushed her way throw the officers as she stormed out into the hall.

“Mr. Hummel” Higgins suddenly spun about.

Kurt meekly responded, “Yes.”

“Jake, needs your assistant. Please go with him.” The commander disappeared.


	12. Confessons

The smell from the corner and the sight of the blood made Kurt feel queasy. Rubbing a hand across his forehead Kurt felt sweat and cringed. Letting out a sigh and looked at her from a crouched position. In a soft, gentle tone Kurt asked, “You alright Rachel.”

Pressing a cold pack against her lip, Rachel sort of smiled. Dark eyes told a story Kurt rarely saw . . . admiration. No one admired him.

“Good move, bud,” Sam sat on the floor leaning up against the wall with his leg spread apart. He still looked uncomfortable even though the nurse gave him something to ease his discomfort.

“That as a novel way of pissing Wacky off?” Santana sounded put out. “Now we’ll be scrubbing out the ship’s shithole for months.”

“Santana, really?” Sub-lieutenant Pillsbury looked mildly upset. “Nothing like that is going to happen.”

“Yeah, right?” Santana glanced at Brittany who smiled.

“I hope Mike’s alright?” Tina said more to herself than anyone else.

“He’s be fine,” Nurse Monaco responded. “Concussions are easy to handle.”

The oriental girl grinned at the nurse and then rubbed her hand over her neck. Tina glanced about and shook her head. “I guess we should think of cleaning this mess up.”

“That will be taken care of. When we are settled here, we’ll all go to the cafeteria and we’ll get something to settle your nerves.” Sub lieutenant Pillsbury announced.

That got her a couple of odd looks.

Half listening, wild sentiment crushed into Kurt. Even though he looked at his friends everything felt off balance. Deep down he longed for someone, anyone, to hold his hand. Turning his left palm over, he studied it. Suddenly both hands came up to Kurt’s face. Shaking, dark thoughts he had been buried shot to the surface like a geyser.

“Kurt?” Finn placed a hand on the other boy’s wrist.

A huge shudder rocked Kurt’s body as the colour drained from his face. Breathing in he suddenly heaved as if he would throw up again. Instinctively Finn pulled Rachel in one direction and pushing Kurt in the other. One hand smashing to the floor to steady himself and Kurt heart footfalls running toward him. Fingers grasped onto his arm but when he looked no had come near him.

Sudden terror gripped him and the heart sank into a mass of swirling black. Something ugly and maligning slithered deep down in some part of him offering a poisonous brew. Laughing and taunting, the hideous machinations of a psychopath tore at his self-esteem. The world tilted and transparent dirt plummeted down ripping at his soul revealing a single, blurred image. A young boy sat on the edge of a bed holding a colourful scarf against his nose. Rocking back and forth he wished and pleaded. Long ago the heart had gone numb even though the material conjured up loving and tender memories. Unable to cry he held that scent close to him. The thin, soft fabric represented everything in life that too no longer existed. Loneliness prevailed in a place Kurt dreaded would never be filled again.

Mangy, festering thoughts surged from that dank place and his stomach turned. Panting he tried to regulate his body responded as a long quake tore through tense muscles. Sweat dripped to the floor and he found it more difficult to catch his breath. His eyes involuntarily slammed shut. Flicking hazel broke the darkness. Heart and soul jumped as spectral arms enveloped him instantly bringing on one hand calm and irate fear on the other. The vibrant colour struggled with the agony of his torments.

The chest rolled again as if something would come up. Horror pulsed with heave and then lips. Oh, god . . . lips. He gasped but still they pressed down upon his neck beneath the ear. Soft and warm, a puff of warm air rustled his hair.

Legs folded up under him and braced on one hand, Kurt fought an urge to scream. His heart throbbed in his chest and it felt like his head would explode. Again, something wet touched his neck followed by the touch of gentle fingers. Kurt unconsciously leaning into the sensation of romanticism. Warmth spread across his chest dredging up unknown feelings. Wildly blinking accepted the sudden impulse. Drawing air into his throat he softly sang something he had never heard before.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X510my0LsQo)

_Someone to hold you too close,_  
_Someone to hurt you too deep,_  
_Someone to sit in your chair,_  
_To ruin your sleep._

_Someone to need you too much,_  
_Someone to know you too well,_  
_Someone to pull you up short_  
_And put you through hell._

_Someone you have to let in,_  
_Someone whose feelings you spare,_  
_Someone who, like it or not,_  
_Will want you to share_  
_A little, a lot._

_Someone to crowd you with love,_  
_Someone to force you to care,_  
_Someone to make you come through,_  
_Who'll always be there,_  
_As frightened as you_  
_Of being alive,_  
_Being alive,_  
_Being alive,_  
_Being alive._

_Somebody, hold me too close,_  
_Somebody, hurt me too deep,_  
_Somebody, sit in my chair_  
_And ruin my sleep_  
_And make me aware_  
_Of being alive,_  
_Being alive._

_Somebody, need me too much,_  
_Somebody, know me too well,_  
_Somebody, pull me up short_  
_And put me through hell_  
_And give me support_  
_For being alive,_  
_Make me alive,_  
_Make me alive,_  
_Make me confused,_  
_Mock me with praise,_  
_Let me be used,_  
_Vary my days._  
_But alone is alone, not alive._

_Somebody, crowd me with love,_  
_Somebody, force me to care,_  
_Somebody, let me come through,_  
_I'll always be there,_  
_As frightened as you,_  
_To help us survive_  
_Being alive,_  
_Being alive,_  
_Being alive!_

The words seemed so real but everything else shifted in agonizing transition. Time? What time? It meant nothing or did it? For a moment it felt as if he had been elsewhere. Emotion swelled with hazel steadily gaining ground against dark remembrances. A heavy chest rose with deep puffs of air.

No one spoke. Adults and teenagers alike just stared. The quiet made Kurt think of a room with no windows or a door. Their eyes on him made him feel fully exposed and naked. A faint of chocolate rode across his nose. Blue orbs went wide as stark overlapping memories flashed within Kurt’s mind. In one he sat next to his mother with a large mug in his hands. In the other he sat across around table staring into a hazy form with the most amazing hazel eyes. Kurt lowered his head he felt a billow of air against his neck again. This time he looked up to see reality staring him in the face. Jake’s soft eyes had water in them. Kurt sort of smiled. Jake smiled back.

Tension broke and Pillsbury wiped her eye. “My god.”

“That was . . . gorgeous,” Mercedes said in a hushed tones.

Turning away from his mentor, Kurt’s eyes fell on Santana. The beautiful woman could not meet his gaze but Kurt saw the water rimming her dark eyes.

“Kurt, come along,” Jake said in a soft tone. He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Lowering his head, Kurt let out a wisp of air. His heart bled in a way he had never thought possible. The words had come out of the gloom of a deeply sorrowful only to be engulfed with bright hazel ringed by the lightest hints of green. How could it be real?

Leaning closer, Jake whispered. “Kurt?”

Pushing himself up the teen looked at his friends. Rachel’s huge eyes stared back at him, her face wet with tears. Finn’s face looked flush with emotion. Behind him Artie held both Tina’s and Mercedes hands. Their faces . . . well Kurt could not really describe the combination of awe and sorrow.

“Who were you singing to?” Tina suddenly asked.

Quinn slapped her on the arm as if saying ‘none of your business’.

Who did he sing too? His heart did not know. The mind fell into chaos. Logic cast at him a pile of justifications including this make-believe acquaintance flowing as a by-product of abject loneliness. Sentiment spoke of more than a passing fancy. Conscious laughed dragging the boy back down into the mire of self-loathing. Fear spiralled up his spine as icy fingers squished his heart and then, with eyes wide open, he saw a flash of hazel. He twitched and almost threw up again.

Squeezing the boy’s shoulder Jake looked disturbed. Knowing he had to get Kurt away from this place, Jake whispered, “Come on, we have some work to do.”

Nodding, Kurt’s numb mind had not concept of self. Running on automatic, he weakly smiled at Rachel before hauling himself to his feet. Slowly walked to the door and out into the hall he became aware of footsteps behind him. In the corner of his eyes Kurt saw Jake. The man’s presence soothed but in this instance the juggling of emotion proved so powerful. Hazel and shades of the darkest greys confronted each other. One wished to consume and the other sought gentle forgiveness.

The two walked side by side down the hall and around the corner. Kurt could sense his friend’s concern in the pounding of his own heart. Nonetheless, somewhere within his mind, grubby hands dragging him down into the realm of black verdicts. At the same moment hazel filaments pulled him to moments of utter joy. The threads of his life seemed to unravel but, at the same time, they wove themselves tighter.

“Wow . . . Kurt that was . . . moving.” Jake voice sounded tight as if he tried to control emotion. He had no real idea what else to say. “I’ve never experienced anything like that before.”

Uncertain, Kurt fumbled on his thoughts. Feeling Jake’s eyes on him, the boy found he could do nothing else but stare at the floor. With building courage he quietly asked, “Jake, what is going on?”

Jake looked as if the question had been something he had not expected. “You tell me?”

Kurt’s thought wandered. He must have looked guilty. He did not feel guilty. “I didn’t do anything.”

Jake decided honesty would be the best course. “You do not need to shield yourself to me. I’m very much aware of what you have been through. I saw what happened in there.”

Kurt appeared shocked and then his expression changed as if he comprehended something. “You watched on the screen like the one in Lieutenant Sylvester’s office?”

“Yes. Higgins and saw it.”

“The whole thing?”

“We had to playback the footage.”

“You’re watching all of us.” Kurt stopped and turned to the only adult he would consider to be a friend. He looked upset.

Jake came to a halt as well. Placing a hand on Kurt’s shoulder he smiled. “Kurt you are not as naïve as people think you are. You saw the screen in the lieutenant’s office. Why do you think it’s there?”

“Too spy us.” Kurt felt stupid.

Jake squeezed Kurt’s shoulder. “The computer watches all of us including the captain. It is part of the overall process that helps the computer maintain environmental, production and maintenance schedules. It also ensures we know where everyone is if there is an emergency.”

The boy looked repentant. “I’m sorry Jake.”

‘Kurt, don’t apologize to me. You’re what fifteen . . . now?”

“Yeah.”

“You should be allowed to enjoy yourself. If you ask me, Lieutenant Sylvester went a bit too far.”

“She hates us. Hates me.”

“I don’t think its hate, Kurt.”

“She has done nothing but . . . but . . . harass us especially since all this competition stuff started.”

“You may want to ask her.”

“She’ll bite my head off.”

“I can’t really get into it, but you could try.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Kurt, let’s just say, she’s misunderstood.”

Kurt gave Jake a sceptical gaze.

The two of them approached the huge chamber holding the teenager’s living cubicles. The long rows of pods stretched down into the dim. In silence, they strolled down the length until they got to the end. A few Kurt’s peers walked here and there. Most of them ignored the pair but then a few gave Kurt hurtful looks.

“Do they always look at you that way?” Jake asked in a hushed tone.

Kurt shyly replied. “Not all of them . . . but yes.”

“Karofsky?”

“Yeah.”

“Why haven’t you told anyone?”

“I tried but who would listen to . . . Fairycakes.”

Stopping, Jake crouched down in front of Kurt. Grabbing him by both arms he looked up at the boy who now stood taller than himself. “Do you really believe that, Kurt?”

Biting his lip, Kurt regretted the statement. Sighing, he did not know how to answer. “No . . . I . . . don’t know . . . maybe . . . yes.”

Jake suddenly pulled Kurt into a warm hug. The boy leaned in not knowing what to expect. While the embrace did not exactly feel the same as those arms he associated with hazel, Kurt felt mildly stronger. Logic called out—real! Sentiment subtly countered but in a very different way. When Kurt closed his eyes that feeling returned but is seemed distance.

Pulling away first, Kurt stared at Jake with water in his eyes. It felt good but not good enough. “Thanks.”

Gazing into Kurt’s blue, sometimes blue-grey or blue-green eyes, Jake gave the boy an affectionate look. “You’re welcome Kurt. I know you do not trust easily but remember you can always speak to me.”

Kurt admitted with a half-smile. “Okay.”

Standing Jake patted Kurt on his shoulder. No more words needed saying. Unfortunately the nagging tug between emotion and logic continued. Calm rolled like huge waves onto the beach readjusting the sand with each heavy lap. The beating of a heart felt the same.

Tapping the biometric control to release the security screen, Kurt looked back at Jake and then went into the washroom. Surrounded by comfort of his private abode, Kurt leaned his head against the metal wall. Breathing in he wondered if they watched him even there. HIs mind raced here and there, up and down and through the loops. Hazel and dark. Fun and duty. It all bounced about leaving him . . . feeling heavy.

Work. Yes, work. The idea excited him. Kurt could bury himself in it. He loved singing but working with his hands reminded him of his dad. His eyes shifted to his coveralls hanging on a metal peg. The smile stretching his lips came from honest desire and longing. Ever since the seventy two incident he had been given mundane tasks such as lighting and air units. He saw Jake now and then but like most of the adult crew they seemed consumed with some larger project.

He paused and then snickered. Picking the heavy garment up Kurt sniffed the dense fabric hoping to catch the hint of oil or grease. Calling back to Jake he asked, “Do I need my tools?”

Jake responded, “Everything you will need is there.”

“Where are we going?” Kurt searched for his gloves and a towel to clean his hands with.

The mechanic did not reply. Kurt frowned and a little bubble of darkness rumbled up his throat like heartburn. Looking down at the back of his hand it shook. Drawing in yet, another, deep breath he paused. A fist closed and he felt his nerves flare in the most irritating fashion. When he exhaled a wave of peace stuck. Tossing the garment over his left arm he stared at his trembling palm.

Thrusting his fist against the wall, Kurt’s fingers opened wide and the palm slapped against cold metal. Light and dark, hazel and black, it had to end.

“Kurt, please?” Jake pleaded.

Squaring his shoulders, Kurt pulled himself up. Drawing on residual strength he left the cubicle sealing it behind him. Nodding to the Jake, the lad started to walk. Together they moved along the rear of the housing section and out into the long hall along the side of the ship. Stars twinkled everywhere. Heading for the elevator.

Once in the tiny room, Kurt broke the awkward silence. “Jake, can I ask you something?”

The big man looked down at the boy walking beside him. Kurt’s jaw quivered. “You can ask whatever you what but I may not be able to answer.”

“I know, Jake and thank you.” The affection in the man eyes became obvious to Kurt. Jake had always been good to him. “Has anyone died?”

Shocked rocked Jake. Suddenly turned to face the boy her seriously asked. “Why would you ask that?”

Slowly Kurt muttered. “People are being moved about between the landers.”

Holding his thought in check, Jake calmly responded, “Kurt, no one has died.”

The teen looked almost disappointed.

The door sliding open, Jake’s eyebrows pulled together. He softly asked, “Kurt, please tell me what is really going on?”

Holding his tongue Kurt could see the truth in Jake’s eyes as the mechanic stepped from the motionless chamber. People moved about in the large corridor where several elevators met. Trotting to catch up, Kurt still felt out of sorts. For a second he closed his eyes and it shocked him when he did not see hazel. Panic struck and he stumbled. Strong, real hands steadied him. Feeling Jake’s eyes on him, Kurt felt his heart stop.

The huge pressure doors at the end of hall split in two and slid into the wall revealing a seating area and a glass wall with three doors set into it. Curving banks of seats divided into two groupings of fifty separated by a wide aisle flowed along the sloping walls. The area between the seats and a glass wall could easily hold two hundred standing people. The roof lifted up in a star lit dome that stretched up over the glass wall to a similar area on the other side of the double tracked mono-rail. Three dozen teenagers and adults occupied the space. Movement on the far side of the station indicated people waited for the transportation device traveling in the opposite direction.

The two stood there cloaked in quiet. Eventually the humming cascading down the tube announced the arrival of a tram. Rounded at the front and back the vehicle arrived at the station on the outside track. One that side of the station people get on and off. A couple of minutes later it accelerated and vanished into the tube connecting the landers.

Every so often Kurt would feel the man’s eyes on him. Again, he closed his and nothing but gloomy dark ringed with the reddish colour of light passing through eyelids. Terror gripped him and then he felt hard, sharp nails scrapping his skin. It felt so real but then it did not belong to him. He had no better way to describe it. Swallowing hard he felt his body tremble. He wanted the hazel so much it hurt worse than being beaten.

Time lapsed and then shrill humming announced the arrival of a tram. A computerized voice announced, “Tram to center spike, arriving. Tram to center spike, arriving.”

Touching Kurt on the shoulder, Jake nodded toward the doors. Absently Kurt followed. Sentiment played on him making the boy feel hefty. Breathing in short breaths his thoughts and emotions ate at him. He knew he had to say something but how?

As the vehicle slowed to a stop Kurt could see through it to the platform on the other side. One foot wide the transparent metal windows followed the curving shape of the aerodynamic tram. Twenty teenagers got out and for a second Kurt frozen and Jake knew why. Karofsky sneered at Kurt from the edge of the group of people leaving the tram. The teen drew in a hard breath and darkness flashed across his heart. Not wanting to gaze at the bully, Kurt’s eyes slammed shut. Blackness greeted him and he felt his knees failing. Then he noted an apologetic flicker of colour in the corner of his vision. Fear evaporated.

Buoyed, Kurt strolled into the tram he looked at Jake. “Can we sit somewhere away from others. I need to tell you something.”

“Wherever you want, Kurt.” Jake looked to the back of the tram and walked down the last seats where the structure closed over them like a coffin. Most people did not like to sit there because of its claustrophobic nature.

Jake sat against the wall and turned to face Kurt who sat in the triple bench chair on the other side of the aisle. Shuffling over, Jake’s knees stuck out into the aisle. He glanced down the length of the tram where seven other people settled down in the middle. It provided the best location for viewing when the tram turned down the transparent tunnel of the spoke headed for the central core of the long ship.

Hazel flashed when Kurt shut eyes. Discomfort faded. “Jake, I think I’m . . . going . . . nuts.”

“Kurt?” Jake leaned closer. He gazed at the teenager with alarm.

Kurt kept his voice down. “I asked about death because I thought . . .”

Emotion erupted on Jake’s face.

Ashamed, Kurt looked down at the floor. “After I was beaten, I wanted to . . . Everything was there. There were times when . . .”

“Have you mentioned this to anyone else?” Jake sucked on his upper lip.

Kurt shook his head.

Jake slid closer. “No one?

“No one,” Kurt muttered and then he looked into Jake’s eyes. “I once thought . . . but it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Jake said nothing but his eyes spoke volumes.

“Jake . . . something happened that night Santana and Brittany caught me singing. I do not know how to describe without sounding utterly . . . bonkers.” Drawing a breath, Kurt looked down. His eyes then went up to the man across from him. “I . . . how do I . . .”

Placing a hand on Kurt’s thigh, Jake said, “Kurt we’ll be transferring in a minute. Think about what you want to say and we will talk on the next tram.”

Shutting down hurt. The pressures dug into him giving the darkness lingering on the edge of his mind a tiny space to maneuver. The maligning sensation pulled on the part of Kurt Karofsky would grasp and insult. In fact the teen heard the bully’s voice in his head but at the same time he felt something else. It rang out at him like a fleeting déjà vu twisting the knife in further. A skinny boy, not handsome but not homely, spoke to someone over a counter filled with musical scores of made of paper. Gushing, this person marveled at the animal headed broach the object of his attention wore. The encounter led to flirting and then sudden real pain. A viper slithered around the folds of a life waiting to strike. A number of years later its venom struck home.

Startled by the motion of Jake’s hand on his leg, Kurt blinked. Rolling his head back her felt tension in his shoulders. Weightiness gripped his limbs.

“Come on, Kurt,” With a troubled look, Jake pulled at the boy to his feet.

Without thinking, Kurt followed. He had not realized the short trip down to station at the center of the spokes had ended. The noise level rose when their next tram slowed to a stop. A horde of people exchanged positions as the throng passed one another on the platform. Kurt glanced at them as he walked with Jake toward tram that ran the length of the ship down the center. The massive station considered of the end points of the trams form the six landers of the spoke attached to the central core. Walkways and bridges separated by well groom gardens of fruit trees connected the various tubes.

Sitting in the same location they had before, the doors slid shut and the tram headed toward the engine compartment miles away. Self-absorbed, Kurt barely noticed the stops along the way.

Irrespective of the noise from the center of the tram where twenty odd teenage girls babbled on, Kurt scarcely heard a word. He focused on Jake and the tightness in his chest. Biting on his lip he pondered for a long moment and the then said, “You know when you close your eyes you see darkness or sometimes red or blue.”

“Yes.” Jake responded in a calm voice.

“When I close my eyes I see hazel speckled with the slightest hint of green.” Kurt softly said. For some reason he felt relief.

Jake’s face turned slightly to the left as if he considered something. “I don’t think that would make you . . .”

“Jake, when I see the hazel I see . . . eyes staring at me.” Kurt turned in the set to face his friend. Eyes full of fear and wonder. Moisture glistened around the edges. “I sang a song that meant so much when I was kid. I closed my eyes and I saw a fantasy of mine where I belonged to a singing group. It was old, Jake. Nothing like we have now . . . Anyhow, part of one of the couches had no one sitting in it. I saw mist rise up out of it to form a cloudy body. I feature in the fog smirked and then I saw them . . . sparking hazel eyes.”

Kurt fell silent. His heart pounded in his chest. Gazing at Jake, the man the boy have expected Jake to say something. Expanding his fingers out wide Kurt felt the tension deflate. “Jake . . . I must be going nuts . . . every time I close my eyes I see those . . . hazel . . . but now . . .”

“Kurt?” Jake sounded more than a little concerned.

Slouching down in his seat, Kurt had no idea how to continue. His mouth moved and then he stopped. Then he tried again and fell silent. Sweat ran down his face.

“Slowly Kurt.” Jake placed a reassuring hand on the boy’s knee. His brows pulled together. “I had no idea . . .”

“Jake,” Kurt cut the mechanic off. “I could tell my father everything. He may not always understand but he would listen and never just. Sort of like you.”

Jake smiled.

“I miss him so much. He held my hand when my mother died. He stumbled when I told him . . .” Kurt blushed and looked away.

Jake hesitated. What he wanted to do what would not be appropriate right now. He however said his piece. “That you like boys.”

Letting out a long sigh, Kurt awkwardly admitted, “Yes.”

“Is this what is going on? Your sexuality.” Jake grinned and leaned closer. “Kurt I don’t care. A lot of people will not care. The rest are just assholes. You are a good kid and will one day be a great adult.”

Heavy sentiment filled Kurt’s eyes when he looked up. He stared for the longest time and then he said in an almost hushed tone. “Jake, you’re like . . . my . . . father now . . . sort of.”

Spontaneously scooping the teenager up in his arms, Jake forgot propriety. A huge smile filled his face. He whispered. “My boy, I am flattered you think of me that way. You’re my family too.”

“Really?” Squeezing harder than the thought he could tears rolled down Kurt’s face.

“We’re all orphans on this ship and we are all making new families. Yes, one of our jobs is to keep an eye on all of you. The computer placed you and others into classes and work schedules based on . . . god’s . . . well I have no idea. People are being moved about now because the computer is readjusting for personality clashes. Anyhow, when I got placed with you I instantly knew you were special Kurt. The bond we have is not that of adult and teen but rather one of honest compassion.”

Leaning into Jake, Kurt openly cried. Terrors and hopes gushed from the boy as he gripped the man beside him in a hard grasp. Eyes closed, hazel mists flowed up about him soothing. Once more he felt transient hands on him. Overlapping the chunky arms of the man holding him Kurt could feel youthful strength.

The two pushed apart when the tram came to a halt at the next station. The vehicle filled up even though it approached the end of the line. Hesitatingly the two took on a regular stance. Nothing had to be said. Sentiment spoke volumes. For the first time since waking Kurt felt unburdened.

“Kurt?” Soft emotions rolled over Jake’s face.

The teen stared into Jake’s eyes. “There is no one else on this tub that has even taken an interest in me . . . well except Sam and maybe Rachel”

“What about the rest of your friends?” Jake softly asked.

“I don’t know if I can call any of them just yet. At times I feel I can trust them and then . . . there’s a fight. I cowered Jake. The agony on the beating took me. I experienced darkness and hate and then I saw hazel again. I felt someone touch me but no one was there. Hands landed on my back soothing me and then something kissed me.” Kurt put his hands on his chest. “I’ve been holding it all in here. It’s getting unbearable but when I see these . . . hazel eyes . . . it feel as if everything will be alright. The dark thoughts faded . . . Am I crazy?”

“Kurt . . .” Jake fell silent. Forcing one lip over the other, he eventually added. “Have you spoken to Pillsbury?”

The boy looked utterly shocked. While the concern made Kurt feel safe, he did not really want to hear it. Almost embarrassed, he murmured, “You’re the first.”

Jake smiled. “Kurt, talk to Pillsbury but if you’re not comfortable, I have an ear.”

Swallowing hard Kurt nodded. He had to consider it but the idea petrified him. What if they locked him up?

Lost in gloomy thoughts Kurt did not pay attention to his surrounding until he realized he entered a place the thought he would never see again—seventy two. Coming to a stop he stared at the stark vastness of the outer corridor. Slowly his eyes went to window looking out into the huge hold. Men in self-contained environmental suits using electric earth movers pushed soil and stone about. Others planted a forest of the oddest vegetation Kurt had ever seen.


	13. Group Gel

“Mercedes, honestly, look at it from if you stood in my shoes.” Kurt made a face as he glanced down at the new jacket he carried in his right hand.

Mercedes plodded along holding Kurt by the arm. “Honestly, Kurt, they’d fall off.”

Kurt chuckled and leaned into her butting his shoulder against his. “He rubs me wrong way.”

“Finn changed.”

“Has he?”

“No one is really evil.”

“Karofsky is.”

“Kurt, you don’t really believe that.”

“Egging my cubicle wasn’t nice.”

“Puckerman wasn’t even involved.”

“He probably orchestrated it.”

“You really need to get hold of yourself.”

The boy stopped and turned. “Mercedes I’ll admit my emotions and temper had been all over the map for the past few weeks. Look at what just happened?”

“Let’s sit for a bit.” Holding the boy’s arm, Mercedes led the boy toward the vegetated junction where three corridors met. Fountains amongst the fruit tree hydrated the air.

When they got there, Mercedes dragged Kurt down onto the half wall protecting the roots of the fruit trees and other shrubs planted at the juncture. Looking into his eyes she held one of his hands. “I know you don’t trust us yet . . . I get that.”

Kurt looked down. “Mercedes, it’s hard.”

“It’s hard for all of us.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Kurt closed his eyes and again the hazel greeted him. With each passing day if felt strong and his inner loathing punier.

Kurt would have shut down a month ago if it had not been for Jake. The man continued to be his biggest source of release even though they had not seen much of one another. Seven-two kept the adult busy. Every so often Jake would take him there to help him. Each time Kurt would stand there staring into the hold with awe. A forest grew there and on the odd occasion the thought he saw something with feathers flip passed the window. While he never questioned what he saw he continued to ask why he had been permitted back. Jake simply said the captain authorized if it someone accompanied him.

The work they did intrigued him. Again he did not question why they made a jerry rigging water recirculation system permanent. Pipes had been seal off and make shift junctions installed. The water they sprayed into the hull did not come from the ship’s systems.

On the odd occasion Jake called to him over Kurt’s hand held communicator. The first time it happened the teen stood there for three quarters of an hour waiting for Jake to let him in. When the mechanic finally contacted him Jake told him to swipe his card. To Kurt’s surprise it worked. After that he just flashed his card and walked in.

The boy half expected Wacky Sue to jump out of a corner to grab him. A few hours after the fight rumours circulated she had gone off the handle in Higgins’ office. Other than that no one knew what really happened and no one saw her for two weeks. Tensions eased during that period and then, like a storm, she returned. In less than an afternoon she had ripped through the lander with a reign of sarcasm that made her previous rants look like child’s play.

In all the gloom that seemed to follow Kurt he found two bright lights—hazel and Jake. One he continued to question while the caporal other made logic happy. Adult and teen started getting together for a general chat and dinner on Friday nights. Kurt loved it. Saturday night had been family night with his parents. The kindly mechanic asked Kurt to invite his friends. He brought Sam to their last get together. It ended up to be a quiet evening. Sam really did not speak much but Jake talked the boys into singing. It ended up being country but Kurt did not mind. Anything but modern. Jake and Kurt stayed away from the spooky topics.

At night Kurt rested in a bed filled with hazel comfort. Sometimes it took a while to drift off but he always woke refreshed. The daily regiment now involved singing to himself in the privacy of his bathroom. Eventually the day began in earnest and trepidations would sneak back in. Sometimes everything went so well Kurt could believe his luck. Then came the disasters. One of Karofsky’s sycophants dwelt on the level above his a few cubicles down. One morning he left on a cheery note only to have sludgy toilet water poured upon him from above.

Now Puckerman sat with arms reach brooding. The tough guy brashly argued and almost got into another knock down with Santana. The whole affair kept Kurt’s stomach on edge. As the days wore on he got tired of always being on guard. Every time he heard a bang or a loud voice he would tense up. Each little offence dug into him given those thoughts power. He got into the habit of listening behind him and watching ahead.

Thankfully, those invisible hands seemed to be there whenever he felt destressed. The touch on his neck or a puff of air on the hair above the ear happened whenever Kurt saw one of the Betas. When he sat half listening to Pillsbury an insubstantial hand rested on his left. This fact shocked him making him finally realize his rationality slipped away. More and more he started to listen to what Pillsbury had to say while blaming his torments on the bullying.

After the season seven days ago Kurt realized the path to salvation came from the need to comprehend what it all meant. Deciding to talk about his new feelings with Jake, he finally had to face the personal fallout resulting from his confessions—the feeling that he had somehow betrayed his father’s memory. It stuck in his throat every time he saw the mechanic. At night the darkness dwelling on the edge his heart introduced deluded concepts into his dreams.

One early morning he woke from a hazel tinted dream feeling upset. Swallowing hard Kurt lay there for the longest time trying to figure out what just experienced. Logic proved fruitless so he finally allowed sentiment to take full control. Purposely closing his eyes he immersed himself in the pulsing of his heart. Within seconds a cloudy figure appeared but it did not look human. Eventually he recognized it as something from history called a car. A ghostly form worked on it. Off to one side the translucent form Kurt associated with hazel strolled in a large room with other cars in it. Coils of grey formed what looked like a long, double breasted coat with some sort of fabric wrapped about the neck. Slight skin tones played within the haze of the face making the features seem more real. The lips curled up causing those hazel orbs to sparkle.

The man leaning over the ancient means of mobility stood up. Questions passed between the two. The shadowy form with stunning hazel eyes offered a piece of equipment Kurt did not know. Honest answers and revelations came from both as the man continued to work. Concern slowly etched across their misty faces as the conversation got more serious. Hazel eventually apologized and departed. Left alone whirling fog rolled up around the man revealing something Kurt had never expected—someone who looked like his father.

Shedding tears, Kurt realized Burt would always be there. Jake may never been all that father had been but Kurt he could not give up.

That morning Kurt felt a strong urge to make the coat he had seen. Being Sunday, he had no immediate concerns. He found what he needed in the computer and feverously went to work. The design demanded a winter padding but a constant temperature caused Kurt to reject it for a simple lining. He had to admit the finished produce looked great. To his surprise a redhead girl, he did not even know, asked if he could make her something similar.

Rolling her eyes at Kurt’s mood, Mercedes waved a hand in front of his eyes. “You in there?”

“Most of me.” Kurt glanced at Mercedes. He absently caressed the seams of his newest creations. Sadly the back had been soaked with spit.

Mercedes gave him a look.

Kurt understood why she followed him like a lost puppy. About a week after the fight those he may yet call friends seemed to be around more often, Rachel hung on him like a loose shirt. Sam, well, Kurt like having the pouting boy about. Besides being good on the eyes, his mannerisms never offended. Mercedes became his shadow more than anyone else. It started to get irritating but today Kurt welcomed her timely intervention. This morning two girls who hung about a one of Karofsky boy’s made their dislike of Kurt very vocal. No one helped as they overtly dared him to get them pregnant. One of the even flashed her chest at him. Mercedes disrupted their nasty flirtations.

“What are you looking forward to?” Having noted the despondence in Kurt’s eyes Mercedes changed the subject once more. As aggravating as it became she had made a promise to Rachel, Tina and Artie.

Kurt knew the other members of the New Directions worried about him. Rachel had made her opinion perfectly clear. For a boy who treasured his independence and privacy it meant a lot. Grinning at Mercedes he whispered, “What do I have to look forward to other than a return trip to the infirmary?”

Making a face, Mercedes snarled. “God’s Kurt get over yourself.”

“Mercedes?” Kurt looked shocked.

Shaking her head, Mercedes pushed her lips out. “You’re such a drama queen.”

The boy chuckled. “Mercedes, you aren’t the on getting spat on every day.”

“You sure of that?”

“Look at the back of your outfit and tell me if you see any spit dried to it.”

“Kurt . . . Can’t I be worried about you?

Kurt bit his lip and suddenly looked embarrassed. “I have been a bit of an ass.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You know what your problem is.”

“I’m just too damn pretty?”

“Yes, you’re such a flower.” Cupping her free hand over the arm wrapped around Kurt’s forearm, Mercedes dragged him on.

“Do you think we’ll get to sing again today?” Kurt asked.

A girl gave a boy that look. “Avoiding the subject will not end it.”

“Probably not my little bull dog.” Kurt winked.

Mercedes playfully stuck her tongue out. “Arf, arf.”

Kurt snickered and together they strolled along the corridor outside of the study hall supervised by Mr. Clippinger. Like most classes the doors remained open all the time. After all this time Kurt did not understand why but Jake explained it to him one dinner. It had to do with air circulation. Apparently, when the built the ship, the engineers underestimated the affect so many rambunctious teens would have on the environmental systems. It also explained all the work they did on air and water systems.

Coming to a large common area where three corridors met, Kurt slowed. Several teens sat around on edge of the vegetated area in the middle. Like many of the larger spaced on the vessel, fruit trees grew in groups of four or more. Others walked this way or that moving between the various classrooms found on this level.

Mercedes pressed her hand protectively into Kurt’s arm. “Isn’t that Tim?”

Prickling ran up Kurt’s back. His eyes first when the girl beside him and his gaze followed her eyes. He shrank back even as that hint of hazel touched swaying emotions.

Noting Kurt’s reaction, Mercedes, whispered, “Come on Kurt, we have a class to get to.”

Nodding, Kurt drew in a deep breath and followed along. His eyes remained on the athletically bulky Tim on the other side of the trees. One of the stars of the tri-ball team he held himself like some superhero. Wearing a form fitting, modern sports outfit complete with team logo, he chatted with a blond girl who giggled at his every word.

For a little while it looked as if Kurt and Mercedes would make it past unnoticed. Suddenly Tim swung his head in their direction. Glaring eyes bore down on Kurt as the girl in his arms snickered. The jock’s hard eyes followed Mercedes and Kurt as they turned to the right.

Mercedes glanced back over her shoulder. “Kurt, forget it.”

“That’s Lucy, right?” Kurt looked straight ahead.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve seen her with Puckerman.”

“Puckerman is a player Kurt. He’s probably making the moves on her.”

“Are you going to have nine children, Mercedes?”

“Are you nuts!?”

“At . . .” Kurt felt silence as a wave of discomfort etched deeply into his heart. Looking back he saw Tim stared over Lucy’s shoulder. In that instant a shimmer of hazel glimmered on the edge of his vision. Friendly ripples ran up Kurt’s back.

Aware of the Kurt’s apprehensions Mercedes carried on with the line of discussion. “Are you planning to have kids, Kurt?”

Blinking, Kurt had never thought of it. His father had wanted grandkids but then that hope had been dashed when a boy revealed his inner self on afternoon. “Honestly . . . kids . . . me?”

“You would make a great father.”

“Mercedes, everyone knows I don’t like that.”

“I for one want to wait as long as I can. I don’t want to give myself away like Lucy does. I want it to be right.”

“Sam?”

Mercedes’ face scrunched up. “Ewwww.”

Sam might be shy but Kurt knew where his attention rested. He also knew the two of them had stepped out together to a place called Breadstix on lander three. The cooking school there opened up an old style restaurant to showcase their creations. Like music, sculpture, painting and writing, the teenagers had been encouraged to look into history. At first it did not go over well but as time passed crew and teens alike embraced the idea. What had become known as the ‘Captain’s Freedom’ settled in nicely with those wishing to forget their experiences on Earth,

Rachel forced Finn to take her there a couple of times. They both described the food as experimental but, then, they raved about the taste and variety. Curious, Kurt did some digging in the computer. The décor fascinated him. It looked old and similar to the times the music he liked came from. In fact they played the old stuff to keep with the era they tried to portray. This alone made him want to go there but then it came done to reserving weeks in advance and then who do go with. Sam might like it but he had already been warned by Artie, Quinn and Tina he could ruin Sam’s reputation.

Breadstix and other places like it led to a friendly revolution. Teenagers and crew embraced aspects of their humanity the structure on Earth would not permit. People experimented resulting in other endeavors popping up all over the ship in little used spaces. Many landers had various kinds of eateries and some of them even had dance clubs. Commerce seemed to take off though they had nothing to spend. Money, Kurt remembered that. The companies paid their employees and then they took almost all of it the form of prices meant to ensure no one could save.

Kurt’s favourite place turned out to be a café on lander sixteen. It started out as a go in, get what you want place and then leave. Now it had seating. Rachel, Artie, Tina, Mike and himself became regulars. They even started up new acquaintances and met members of rival singing groups. The place looked like something history called a coffee bar. The reason he liked the place came down something Kurt had smelt one day when a puff of air tickled his nose—coffee. He had never even realized it existed until the word popped into his head. Digging into the data files he found historical records talking about the huge chains of coffee houses. Unfortunately climate change doomed coffee to near extinction. The stuff the café served had the smell, at least according to that whiff test. As for taste, he had nothing to compare with.

Over the past three months life improved all over the Arc. But then some did not like it. The point came to mind because one of the naysayers approached from the opposite direction. Lieutenant Sylvester barged down the wide passage scattering students I her wake. Wacky Sue had her usual look of consternation plastered on her face.

The two teens slowed and stepped toward the wall as she stormed forward. Three young girls scurried out of her way as the lieutenant changed her course. She no longer wore the expected uniform changing it out for something casually similar. The captain removed the requirement for the crew to wear uniforms a month ago. Most happily complied. Wacky Sue halfheartedly fell into line. At first her manner of dress had been a protest but then it morphed into her trademark.

Bearing down on them in what some might call pajamas, she adorned herself in medium blue cloth from head to foot. A thick, dark band circled the waist at the bottom of the jacket. Three white strips ran down her arms from the neck to the wrist. The same stripe traveled from waist to her ankles. Twirling what Kurt recognized as an ancient whistle in her hand she glared at the duo.

The sour faced lieutenant stopped right into front of the two teens. “My, my, well isn’t it the Pillsbury-cry-baby-boy and little Miss Shove-a-muffin-in-my-trap.”

Kurt fought to hold himself in check when a splash of hazel brought that sense of calm. Gazing at the exasperating officer he kept a straight face. “If you do not mind, we’ll be late for class.”

“How droll, Trying to be adult about things. Maybe that scatter brained redhead is doing some good.” Wacky Sue rolled her eyes and her hand flipped up into the air. “Yes, yes all those cats screaming as you get more bad luck.”

Mercedes’ appeared puzzled.

“Go, look up old superstitions, donut.” The lieutenant focused most of her attention on Kurt.

The girl’s face hardened.

“If you don’t mind, Lieutenant Sylvester, we’ll be on our way,” Kurt politely stated. Pillsbury told him he should not allow his anger to get the best of him. Being polite sometimes disarmed people. So far, no luck.

“Yeah, yeah.” Sylvester placed her hand on each side of her head and added, “Why did I end up with such a dysfunctional lot?”

The teens stared.

“Oh . . . do run along and prepare whatever new punishment you wish to inflict on us normal folk.” Wacky Sue stomped off shaking her head and muttering to herself. Teens scattered before her.

“Normal?” Kurt looked at Mercedes with one eyebrow raised.

Yanking on Kurt’s arm Mercedes swiveled her head and chuckled, “Forget about her.”

Passing the first open door, Kurt glanced in. Several teens stood at individual tables working with something grey and mushy. The first time Kurt saw this he did not know what it could be but later he found they called is clay. Intrigued he downloaded the library information to his implant one evening before he fell asleep. In the morning he woke up thinking, yuck. The thought of getting his hands dirty turned him off.

The next room on the right had a number of people moving their bodies in interesting ways. It’s a class Mike actually helped teach—dance. The three remaining rooms on that side had been reconfigured for those learning how to play those archaic instruments. Smaller enclosed areas allowed groups with similar instruments to break out on their own and not bother the others. Supply and the lack of certain production facilities limited the amount of instruments uses. Many had an electric component to them. Some looked like Sam’s guitar, others resembled violin and cellos. Finn liked the fact they had a variety of drums. Personally Kurt found himself interested in the keyed instruments similar to the pianos he had once seen. Much smaller and lighter, they made a larger range of sounds.

The singing room lay close to the next junction that separating the preforming arts from the visual arts. Those learning to draw and paint sometimes sat about the vegetation doing their thing. On a few occasions Kurt stopped to watch.

Nearing the singing room Kurt expected to here song but the only noise came in the form of muffled talking. Five weeks ago they started spending more time singing instead of learning about music basics. Mr. Shu insisted, with some strife, they try the different styles. He gave them challenges and scored them according to how close the person or group came to the original recordings. Everyone or group sang three songs from the selected genre. The winner got to choose the genre for the next week. Rachel won three times and as Santana put it, fame went straight to her fat head. Mercedes won once. Puckerman’s win surprised everyone.

Then to shake it up even more, Schuester added live instruments to the mix. Drums, keyboard, two types of guitar and violins. Depending on the music, the combination changed but this became pretty standard now. Kurt liked having the live backup. Some of them still adjusted.

Slowing when he entered, Kurt stared. Everyone had beaten him. Lieutenant Schuester, yes lieutenant, stood off by himself next to one of the portable computers. To everyone’s surprise the captain promoted him after the fight a few weeks ago. He had been given general oversight of the music program in all the landers. Other promotions included Beiste being given authority for ship wide athletics. People from other landers over saw the ship wide programs for the preforming, written and visual arts. A raft of other programs opened up including mechanics, agriculture and courses on how to manipulate material, such as wood and stone, to make something else. Kurt learned Jake turned down a promotion. He liked getting his hand dirty.

Ten teenagers sat in a bunch at the end of two rows of seats. Rachel smiled at Kurt who grinned back. Her lip healed up nicely as did all of their wounds. Puckerman sat on the edge but he seemed to have begun to fit in as the days wore on. Going against Sylvester had not been easy on him. Digging himself out of dumpster required Kurt’s help.

Kurt and Rachel still did not like Noah. The other warmed up to him, especially Finn. Mike got along with him as did Quinn. In fact Quinn had taken a shine to Puckerman while she continued to compete with Rachel for Finn. Rachel and Finn seemed content with themselves. Seeing them together both pleased and hurt Kurt because it reminded him of things that would never be again. Then he thought of a loving hazel hue, Jake and the hope they represented.

Mercedes guided Kurt to the chairs. As he sat, everyone else got up and stepped out into the open area between the seats and the screen. Kurt started to rise and then Mercedes pushed him back into the chair. Kurt gave her a curious look but she held a finger up as if saying ‘stay quiet and sit still’. She turned and joined the others who gathered into a tight ball.

Unable to fathom what occurred, Kurt looked to Mr. Shu. Their sponsor grinned and winked. Starting to stand, Kurt stopped suddenly when Finn stepped forward.

“What’s going on?” Kurt asked to Finn,

The jock came to a halt a few feet away and announced, “Kurt, this is for you.”

Mr. Shu hit the screen of computer and music blared from the speakers. Kurt sat there stunned as the rest of them started to sing.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gt2ftqtDU3g&list=RDgt2ftqtDU3g#t=9 )

_[Finn:]_  
_One, two_

_[Finn and Puck:]_  
_One, two, three_

_[Finn:]_  
_Wake up kids_  
_We've got the dreamers disease_  
_Age 14 we got you down on your knees_  
_So polite, we're busy still saying please_

Falling back into his seat Kurt could not believe what he heard and saw. Why did they sing to him? What had he done?

_[Sam and Puck:]_  
_Frienemies_

_[Sam:]_  
_Who when_  
_You're down ain't your friend_

A combination of apprehension and pleasure pressed against Kurt’s chest. While he did not know the song he knew the beat and the away the sounds had been meant to harmonize. The singers struggled to make the chords work but the fact they tried amazed him.

_[Sam and Puck:]_  
_Every night_

_[Sam:]_  
_We smash their Mercedes-Benz_

A wisp of warmth tickled the back of Kurt’s neck. Turning back he saw nothing. Within the corridors of his mind the notes moved him in a manner he really did not comprehend.

_[Sam and Puck:]_  
_First we run and then_

_[Sam:]_  
_We laugh till we cry_

A splash of hazel coated waking eyes. Kurt’s heart froze.

_[Mercedes and Rachel:]_  
_But when the night is falling_  
_You cannot find the light, ([Finn and Sam:] light)_  
_If you feel your dreams are dying_  
_Hold tight_

_[Finn and Sam with New Directions:]_  
_You've got the music in you_  
_Don't let go_  
_You've got the music in you_  
_One dance left_  
_This world is gonna pull through_  
_Don't give up_  
_You've got a reason to live_  
_Can't forget_  
_We only get what we give_

_[Finn:]_  
_I'm coming home, baby_

Suddenly the people around him shifted as living forms became lost in overlapping mist. The faces of those he knew folded away into rolling fog but then remained remotely the same. The synchronization of their voices improved the song.

_[Sam:]_  
_You're the top_

_[Finn and Puck:]_  
_Give it to me now_

_[Finn and Sam with New Directions:]_  
_Four a.m. we ran a miracle mile_  
_We're flat broke but hey we do it in style_  
_The bad rich_  
_God's flying in for your trial_

_[Finn (Mercedes):]_  
_But when the night is falling (falling)_  
_You cannot, find a friend (find a friend)_  
_You feel your tree is breaking_  
_Just then_

The cloudy form Kurt recognized to be himself sang with those he associated with the song. Sitting in the vaporous background on a stool, he took a secondary role to the principals.

_[Finn, Sam and Rachel with New Directions:]_  
_You've got the music in you_  
_Don't let go_  
_You've got the music in you_  
_One dance left_  
_This world is gonna pull through_  
_Don't give up_  
_You've got a reason to live_  
_Can't forget_  
_We only get what we give_

_[Puck with New Directions:]_  
_This whole damn world can fall apart_  
_You'll be OK, follow your heart_  
_You're in harms way I'm right behind_  
_Now say you're mine_

Metallic walls gave away to smoky wood tones. The monitor looked white with a single word etched across it in colour. Two different age groups looked at one another as the class seniors performed for the juniors.

_[Sam and Finn with New Directions:]_  
_You've got the music in you_  
_Don't let go_  
_You've got the music in you_  
_One dance left_  
_This world is gonna pull through_  
_Don't give up_  
_You've got a reason to live_  
_Can't forget_  
_We only get what we give_  
_Don't let go_  
_I feel the music in you_

_[Finn and Mercedes:]_  
_Fly high, high_  
_What's real can't die_

_[Finn:]_  
_You only get what you give_

In reality Kurt sat alone where the juniors occupied the space in his mind. However, in that strange way, he gazed at one person within the ranks of the juniors. An unsubstantial image sat with his hands clasped together between his legs. Wearing a patterned sweater of grey and white, red piping created a V-neck.

_[Mercedes:]_  
_You gonna get what you give_  
_Oh, yeah_

_[Finn and Rachel with New Directions:]_  
_Health insurance rip off lying_  
_FDA big bankers buying_  
_Fake computer crashes dining_  
_Cloning while they're multiplying_  
_Fashion shoots with Beck and Hanson_  
_Courtney Love and Marilyn Manson_  
_You're all fakes_  
_Run to your mansions_  
_Come around_  
_We'll kick you down yeah!_

Fluttering eyes caused the image strengthened. Grey mists rolled up the sweater to a sad face topped with gelled down hair. Heavy eyebrows pressed down toward emotion filled hazel eyes.

_Don't let go_  
_You've got the music in you_  
_Don't give up_

_[New Directions:]_  
_You've got the music in you_  
_([Mercedes:] Ooooohh)_  
_You've got the music in you_

Jaw hanging low, Kurt blinked and the mists clears. Staring at into the authenticity of a room on a ship passing through the bleakness of space, he drew in a deep breath. A pounding heart told Kurt circumstance forced two young lovers to part.

Eleven teenagers and one adult stared at Kurt with jovial looks. Holding their positions silence prevailed.

Overwhelmed Kurt failed to comprehend the significance of what had just happened. Holding his hands out, Kurt muttered, “What . . .?”

Wear casual but modern attire, Schuester stepped from the sidelines. “Kurt, they sang for you,”

“Why?” Kurt could not believe it.

Inching forward Finn knelt in front of Kurt. Staring in the stunned boy’s moist eyes, the jock gestured to those behind him. “Kurt, you showed such bravery during the altercation the few weeks back.”

Puzzled, Kurt could barely trust what he heard or what he felt but then, hazel encompassed his heart. With ever heartbeat he saw those puppy sad hazel eyes. Awkwardly he stated, “I did nothing.”

“That’s exactly it, Kurt, you did nothing.” Artie rolled forward.

“It took bravery to stay out of it and then end it,” Finn added.

“Kurt, we talked when Pillsbury took us to the dining hall.” Mercedes walked over and placed a hand on Kurt’s shoulder.

“All of us,” Quinn pointed at everyone including Noah.

Tina added, “You have been though as lot and we haven’t helped.”

“Kurt,” Rachel stepped closer, “this is our way of saying . . . sorry.”

“You don’t need to,” Kurt blurt out.

“Yes we did,” Noah shyly glanced about at all the others. He looked almost embarrassed. “At least I do. You could have taken that kick but you didn’t. You showed all of us you are more a man than . . . I am.”

“Puckerman suggested we do this,” Sam broke her silence.

Kurt gawked. Sam saying that hit home more than anything else.

Bopping her head back and forth Brittany smiled. “Santana chose the music.”

Turning toward the fiery Latino girl, Kurt eyes filled with disbelief. The Santana cocked her head to one side and winked. Overwhelmed Kurt threw himself into Mercedes arms. Everyone else piled into a group hug.


	14. Acting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this chapter contains explicit sex.

Her eyes following the dark skinned teen walking between two people. The large girl held her ground as she should. Speaking with controlled poise she struggled to maintain and odd accent. “Peace, break thee off. Look, where it comes again!” 

“In the same figure, like the king that's dead.” The dark skinned teen tried to copy the accent as they had been taught but his words came out weak.

Her motions following Andrew. Lauren’s eyes panned across the thirty odd teens watching from the chairs spread around the edges of the room. Slowly she completed her turn and now stared at a lanky, alabaster skinned teen with a pointed nose. She said, “Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio.”

“Looks it not like the king? Mark it, Horatio.” White teeth flashed Andrew’s dark skin. He effortlessly strolled to the edge of the stage marked out on the floor with some sort of coloured adhesive strip.

“Most like. It harrows me with fear and wonder.” Kurt held his position though his head moved to follow Andrew. Holding this mini-computer to his side he resisted peaking at it. They had not been allowed to download the recording made by the famous London theatre group from the mind twenty first century. Actors of old worked from memory.

Andrew stared Kurt in the face. “It would be spoke to.”

“Question it, Horatio.” Lauren side moved away from the other two and then placed a hand on her hip.

“What art thou that usurp'st this time of night.” Kurt glanced at Rachel in the audience. She gave him a reassuring smile. 

The instructor rapped his hand loudly on the wall and Kurt’s eyes darted that way. Ensign Sandy Ryerson did not look pleased. The portly, balding forty odd year old wore light yellow pants of a style that almost verged on modern. The matching, non-modern sweater rested over his shoulders with the sleeves tied together over a white shirt.

At little startled, Kurt stumbled a bit. “Together with that fair and warlike form. In which the majesty of buried Denmark. Did sometimes march? By heaven I charge thee, speak!”

“'Tis gone, and will not answer.” Lauren held her place as her face hardened. 

Andrew stepped back and then turned slightly to the left. Again he avoided the audience. “How now, Horatio! You tremble and look pale. Is not this something more than fantasy? What think you on't?” 

Kurt glanced at his small computer in his hand. He did not feel all that confident. “Before my God, I might not this believe. Without the sensible and true avouch. Of mine own eyes” 

Lauren added. “Is it not like the king?”

Kurt hesitated just a second. “As thou art to thyself. Such was the very armour he had on. When he the ambitious Norway combated. So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle. He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice. 'Tis strange.”

“Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour. With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch?” Lauren stepped to there right and then faced Kurt. Her voice had fortitude and her poise followed as if she knew the ancient play.

Turning to face the large girl, Kurt briefly smiled. “In what particular thought to work I know not. But in the gross and scope of my opinion. This bodes some strange eruption to our state.”

“Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows. Why this same strict and most observant watch. So nightly toils the subject of the land. And why such daily cast of brazen cannon and foreign mart for implements of war.” Lauren faced the audience. Her voice shifted as she continued to force the voice. “Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task. Does not divide the Sunday from the week. What might be toward, that this sweaty haste. Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day. Who is't that can inform me?”

Walking up beside the girl playing a male role, Kurt turned a quarter toward her. “That can I. At least, the whisper goes so. Our last king, whose image even but now appear'd to us. Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway. Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride. Dared to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet—”

Kurt looked back and Andrew and then stepped around Lauren. “For so this side of our known world esteem'd him—”

Shifting away from Lauren, Kurt moved toward the edge of the audience. “Did slay this Fortinbras; who by a seal'd compact. Well ratified by law and heraldry. Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands. Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror. Against the which, a moiety competent. Was gaged by our king; which had return'd. To the inheritance of Fortinbras. Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same covenant. And carriage of the article design'd. His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras Of unimproved mettle hot and full. Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there. Shark'd up a list of lawless resolutes. For food and diet, to some enterprise. That hath a stomach in't; which is no other—”

Andrew moved closer to Kurt while Lauren moved to the background. Kurt continued, “As it doth well appear unto our state—”

Kurt regarded Andrew and then walked over to Lauren, “But to recover of us, by strong hand  
and terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands. So by his father lost: and this, I take it. Is the main motive of our preparations? The source of this our watch and the chief head. Of this post-haste and romage in the land.”

“I think it be no other but e'en so.” Andrew moved to join the others. “Well may it sort that this portentous figure. Comes armed through our watch; so like the king. That was and is the question of these wars.”

Clapping, the ensign stepped away from the wall. “Very good, all of you. Much better.”

Kurt turned to face the ensign. He looked relieved.

“Lauren, excellent. The accent, while far from perfect, made the scene.” Sandy stepped out before his students with a smile. “Andrew, you need to look at the audience. If you cannot convince them you are Bernardo, then . . . well we’ll try it again after some more practice. And Kurt, nicely done, but you need to bring your voice down more and try not to overpower the others. Rachel, you can distract people if you get good enough to teach this art.”

The girl in the audience scowled. 

Grinning at Rachel, Kurt suddenly looked down to the floor. He understood. Three weeks ago he downloaded Hamlet to the computer console in his sleeper. Like singing, he needed to rehearse it over and over again to build self-reliance. He recorded himself to dissect his actions and voice. His pitch would be too high and then too low. He held his back to straight or he would lean on one leg. When he would practice with Rachel she would be gushingly diplomatic until he critiqued her. Acting classes proved to be enjoyably challenging.

Several more groups got up to preform different scenes from the same play. One received a glowing response and two scathing. However, the students harkened to the ensign’s words. Sandy proved to be knowledgeable about the preforming arts. After all, he had worked in the entertainment industry producing shows for the elite.

“I disagree,” Rachel snarled as they walked down the hall toward the elevators that will take them down to the transit station. Ensign Ryerson found space for his drama club on lander two where he instructed three groups in rotation. 

“He was right,” Kurt challenged. “You really need to listen.”

“Heather as Juliet, yeah right.” Rachel rolled her eyes.

“She’s great,” Lauren commented. The large girl and Kurt kicked off a surprising lighthearted friendship.

“She’s mediocre.” Rachel’s nose curled up.

“And you’re the best?” Lauren cocked an eyebrow toward Kurt. Her long but round face had a beautiful look to it as he lips curled up into a smirk. “Have you ever been on stage, Rachel?”

Rachel stopped and turned to Lauren. “My fathers taught me how to sing and act. They built me a stage in the basement.” 

The large girl gave smaller girl a look. “I guess that means something.”

“Means something.” Rachel’s tone rose an octave.

Kurt stepped away from both of them.

“I guess you never performed for one of the Circles.” Lauren face stayed perfectly calm. 

Rachel grabbed Kurt’s arm forcing him to close the gap. They stared at Lauren with disbelief. The Circle existed to only the corporate select. How?

Smiling Lauren bopped her head back and forth. “I was not always this size. I was skinny, really skinny at one time. My parents got caught up in one of the corporate sweeps to dismantle the local gangs. I ended up in a facility that made luxury goods for the suits. Occasionally we had visitors and they would get us kids to sing to them. Well, one of the ladies accompanying the suites took a liking to me. They transferred me to a place where we were taught how to perform.”

“Suits?” Rachel looked puzzled.

“Corporate types,” Kurt blinked at Lauren. Each time he saw a flash of soothing hazel. “I didn’t know they had such places?”

“They had patrons and were not commonly known.” Lauren looked upset and she stumbled on her words. “They . . . were not always kind. When she got tired of me I got shipped off to foundry. That was brutal but it toughened me up. I learned to wrestle and fight and I put on the weight. . . lots of weight . . . I missed performing and when the chance came I took it.”

“So you sing?” Rachel asked in complete honesty and without forethought.

Kurt gave her a look. 

Catching the gaze, Lauren pulled in her lower lip. “Yeah. I still do when I’m alone.”

Smiling a huge smile, Rachel said, “You can come and sing with us?”

Stepping back a shocked looked pressed across Lauren’s cubby face. 

“Yeah, come and sing with us.” Kurt’s words started off low and then grew in strength. He however gave Rachel a sideways look. 

“You have a group?” Lauren asked.

Rachel boldly announced. “We’re part of the New Directions from twenty one.” 

“I’m from four.” The large girl said. “Wouldn’t I have to be from your lander?”

Taking the other girl’s arm, Rachel hauled Lauren away from the wall. Looking back to Kurt, Rachel said, “Let’s go to Limabean and we can talk.”

Returning an inquisitive glare, Kurt ran to catch up. “What is your style of singing, Lauren?”

The shorter of the two girls made her displeasure known. Turning her head slightly Rachel shot on of those looks.

“We learned all sort of different styles. The suits have varying tastes.” Lauren’s voice sounded a bit choked even though she portrayed strength.

Sheepishly excited Kurt inquired, “So you did stuff from the ninetieth, twentieth and twenty first centuries?”

“Kurt?” Rachel chastised.

“No, its fine. Music and acting makes me forget. I wrestle when I am angry.” Lauren’s face went from soft to hard as she stared into the waiting area at the edge of the tramway. “I’ve done a lot of wrestling since we woke up. I only found acting again a few weeks ago. A kid who was getting beat up told me about Ensign Ryerson’s extra classes after I wrestled those bitches off of her.”

Nearly fifty teenagers and a few adults waited for the tram. The volume of useless chatter rattled Kurt’s ears. With all the new activities generated with the Captain’s Freedom the teens moved about more creating a greater sense of community. Each lander had been like a little village onto itself and now the ship slowly morphed into a city. Teens could now apply to be transferred between landers to be with new friends or to get away from bad experiences. In general, the crew and their passengers applauded the changes.

The mass of people moving along the platform increased when the door to the tram opened up. Dozens switched positions and the threesome found themselves being pushed to the back. Rachel complained but Kurt did not mind. He had come to like the curving ends of the cars. It offered a place of retreat.

“I can’t be out late?” Lauren commented as they settled down. “I have to play tri-ball in the morning.”

“You play tri-ball?” Kurt blurt out.

“Yeah!” Lauren smiled. “I forced myself onto the team by challenging the three biggest morons to a one on three challenge. I whipped their asses.”

The face of the self-professed most spectacular singer of the New Directions disintegrated into a stupid look. Leaning back into her seat she gazed at the large girl with her chin hanging slightly open.

“It was fun.” Lauren proudly announced. “I broke only one bone and it wasn’t mine.”

Kurt gagged. He had learned more about his new friend in the past few minutes than he had in five weeks. 

The crowds in the tram shifted at the station for the spoke connecting to lander eleven. Tim, Lucy and two other girls Kurt did not recognize got on. The bullied boy bristled but luckily the gaggle settled in on the far side of the tram. 

“Isn’t that Puckerman?” Rachel said to Kurt in a hushed voice. A teen with the mohawk squeezed onto the tram just as the door slid shut. 

Lauren noticed Kurt’s reaction and looked into the crowd. “You see someone you don’t like, Kurt?”

“Yeah,” Kurt glanced at Rachel as if saying, ‘what is he doing here’.

“The one with the odd hair?” Lauren asked. “I’ve seen him about.”

“He’s sings with us.” Rachel shrunk down in her seat.

Kurt watched Puckerman as he pressed into the crowd headed in the opposite direction. “He’s a bad apple?”

“What is he doing here?” Rachel whispered.

Kurt shrugged.

“Visiting by the looks of things.” Lauren pointed to where teen with the mohawk sat with another fellow and the girls. Lucy leaned into him and their faces locked in a sloppy kiss.

The tram seemed to take forever to get to the next station. Each anxious second dug into Kurt allowing that bubbling darkness a small toe hold. That malicious voice in the back of his mind began to whisper biting fragments of past irritations rose and fell like so many bad dreams. A kick or a fast feet chasing him down along hall flashed across the consciousness. Each little chip at his armour pulled Kurt down. 

As soon as the tram pulled up to their stop Kurt grabbed Rachel’s hand and pulled her toward the door. Pushing through other teens waiting to get away from the lingering darkness gripping his heart. The occasional flicker of hazel helped steady his nerve but he sensed the battle between logic and emotion, dark and hazel, raging again. He thought he had beaten it but no, after a two week abatement it all crashed in upon him again. 

Out on the platform two teens, a boy and a girl, scurried out of the seating area and into the hall. Hauling on Kurt’s hand Rachel bid him to slow up. Resisting at first, but when Kurt finally relented one hand came to rest on the wall. Wide eyed, his heart pound on his chest.

“Kurt?” Rachel quietly broke her silence.

Drawing in a shaky breath in no way would Kurt be able to tell her what he really felt. Images of various medical instruments bounced within his thoughts. A slice here or an injection there and it would have all ended. 

Stepping around Kurt so that she could see the boy’s face, Rachel pulled back. Pale skin showing hints of five o’clock shadow looked almost transparent. 

Kurt’s sorrowful eyes turned to her. He had shown a part of him he hid from only two individuals—Jake and a phantom. One had substance and the other . . . Kurt did not really know how to describe the complexities of his unraveling mind. Did he trust enough to open up to Rachel?

“What’s going on?” Lauren grumbled when she finally caught up. He looked winded. 

Rachel and Kurt glance at one another. The boy blurt out without as much as thought, “The one with the mohawk . . .”

“Puckerman,” Rachel injected.

Kurt sighed. “He’s a bully.”

“I thought you said he sings with you.” Lauren gave them an odd look. 

“He’s . . . it’s a bit complicated.” Rachel stated. She stared at Kurt. 

“He torments both of us, but mostly myself.” Kurt admitted. He felt his composure return. “If he came from eleven them he is hanging around with Karofsky still.”

“Tim is.” Rachel did not look happy.

“I’ve heard of this Karofsky.” Lauren crossed her arms. “So, that fellow with the funny hair who bullied you both, now sings with you and hangs out with one of the biggest assholes on the ship.”

“That’s the short of it.” Kurt let out a puff of air. 

Lauren eyed both of them up. “Should I go back there and throw him against a locker?”

Two teens shook their heads. Kurt muttered, “What would it serve.”

Nodding, Lauren’s face got hard.

“Let’s go up to the Limabean.” Rachel pushed her previous agenda. 

Kurt gave Rachel a dark look knowing she would grill him later.

Kurt felt yucky when he returned to his cubicle. Jake sent him to realign the air system in the library again. It always went out of whack. He toiled with for an hour before getting it sorted. In hind sight he would have liked to have stayed Rachel and Lauren. Crawling into the cramped space always left him feeling a little claustrophobic and sweaty. Sometimes he imagined someone sealing him in there. He always set a tool against the access panel to prop it open. 

As per habit, he sealed the sliding barrier behind him and then softly put his toolkit down. For a long moment he just stood there trying to turn voices off in his head. All evening his mind pondered Puckerman. Seeing the nasty teen sucking Lucy’s face made his feel . . . he did not know what he really felt. If Puckerman still ran with David-steel-a-kiss-Karofsky he knew his days with the New Directions would end. This understanding crushed him. 

Why not stand up to him? The thoughts quaked up his spin revealing a truth Kurt had refused to acknowledge—cowardice. Yes, he lived the life of a coward. Fear controlled his every thought and move. He constantly looked over his shoulder and peeked around corners for signs of a threat. Worst he never let anyone in. Well . . . that no longer held water. He did manage to find the courage to open that door just enough to let Sam in. Yes, he trusted Sam. He liked Rachel when she did not whine or act all superior. He even admired Santana, though at a distance. Lauren . . . yes, he liked her but like all things new Kurt kept most everything tight to his chest. 

Feeling suddenly sick, one of Kurt’s hand came to rest on the side of his sleeping pod. Trying to imagine his stomach staying down he waited for the disgusting sensation to pass. Shaking his head, he cursed at the fact he would not escape even in his last sanctuary. Hateful acts and stinging words followed him everywhere. Every time he felt a tinge of pain he thought of boots smashing against him. With all honestly he tried to follow what Pillsbury told him but it became harder. The longer it dragged on the more Kurt felt utterly empty.

Kicking at his toolkit, Kurt pulled up short. Holding his foot in the air he stared at it and sighed. Stripping off his coverall he started to pull off his shirt. Suddenly he looked back at the barrier it ensure it remained at his normal level of darkened translucency. Month’s old embarrassment still haunted him. On that night he returned, just like tonight, and undressed. Unknown to him someone had reprogrammed the security panel so it looked solid form the inside while being very transparent from the other. The snickering from the kids the next day gave warning but he had no real clue until Sam told him what he had overheard. That evening, Kurt set about protecting the external computer access.

A quick puff of air escaped his chest and then he hauled off the rest of his cloths. Trudging into the bathroom his had smashed against the preset water control. Scolding water did not help the skin so he kept it set at medium hot. With a twist of his wrist the temperature rose a few degrees. 

Stepping in, Kurt rested both hands against the smooth metal wall. Lowering his head the cascading stream rolled own his head of disheveling hair. Drawing in a deep breath, he just stood there as the warmth spread through his muscles. Soothing heat took the edge off allowing a sense of relaxation to take him. Breathing the warm air in and out he barely stirred when he felt the impression of fingers pressing on both sides of the neck. Kurt knew they lacked reality but he no longer cared. Falling into smoky dream Kurt surrendered that titillating honey-amber-hazel hue.

The gentle touch of imaginary fingers tiptoed up his stomach and onto his chest sent a shiver up his spine. Opening one eye Kurt saw nothing but the sensation proved insatiably tantalizing. That lid effortlessly slid tight again causing a wave of excitement to race through his body—prickly, damp hair pressed into his back. It felt like a tickle at first and then the sensation accentuated the pumping of another heart. Thumping with opposite strokes they slowly came together producing a single drum beat that drew Kurt into a misty world. Four walls, a ceiling and floor. An old style dresser, books, a night stand and a bed. Cloudy grey slithered through everything including two young, hazy male forms lay nose to nose on the bed. Socks and shirts off, pants and under shirts still covering sensual bodies they just stared into one another’s eyes. 

Shifting vapors did not provide much detail but in his heart Kurt felt the heightened emotions drawing two boys toward a very special moment. More than a little afraid, the boy with the pointed nose jumped first. Driving his mouth into the greyish face highlighted with slight skin tones and thick brows over tender eyes, Kurt’s mind gave each of them a name. The cloudy form of the boy leaning over the other became himself—Kurt. The boy beneath him . . . Karl . . . yes that face . . . that hair . . . but . . . no . . . maybe . . . no . . . the eyes did not match . . . but what is in a name . . . yes . . . the captain . . . yes! It had a tangible nature logic could not argue with. Sentiment cared less. Only for those incredible galaxies of honey-hazel spiked with hints of green mattered. 

The boy on the bottom stared up. Grey haze separated as loving, honey-hazel interlaced with speckled green stared up at an inconsistent blue. The boy on top rose up ripping his undershirt over his head exposing his pristine chest to the boy on the bottom. Misty, fingers encompassed by the slightest hint of colour pressed up against warm, erect nipples. Kurt . . . yes, he fully recognized himself . . . pushed the other boy down as he leaned into for a long, wet kiss. When he came up for air, he yanked Karl’s . . . yes . . . the name would do . . . tank top up over the head. Blue met hazel as their eyes locked. Pools of blue and honey brown swirled brought the longing of the ages to the surface. The mirror to the soul revealed all but then whirling mists obscured even the tiniest detail as if the story could not yet be told.

Suddenly, misty Kurt let out a little squeal which translated to a startled grunt in the real world. The water racing down his back rolled down the crack of Kurt’s ass simulating a simple act—Karl’s fingers crawled down into the back of tight pants finding smooth, childlike like skin and a deep crevice. 

Eyes alight, the boy on top squirmed and threw himself at teen under him. Lips swelling with excitement the boy on the bottom wrapped his arms around a beautiful body. Tongues searching, teeth pulling lightly on plump lips finally Kurt pulled away as he gasped for air. A devilish grin stretched his lips and then he pressed his lips into Karl’s tender, exposed neck. The prone boy let out a delighted groan and he pulled Kurt closer. Grasping those arms, Kurt forced them out wide. With deliberate care Kurt leaned way out taking a finger in between his lips. Sucking ever so gently, his tongue worked its way up to the wrist, to the elbow before digging into the arm pit. Karl wildly twitched. 

Moving down to the line of no return, Kurt suddenly stopped. Mischievous blue eyes looked up at breath taking hazel. Those wonderful eyes naughtily twinkled and Karl nodded. The ripping sound of metal against metal lasted but a second. Pushing thick cloth to each side, Kurt stared with astonishment as something plump and pleasantly shaped stiffly pressed against stretched blue fabric. The air escaping Kurt’s nostrils rushed over goosebumps causing Karl to release a low, sexy growl.

Adoring hazel looked up soaking in the smothering lustful boy hovering over him. The moment lingered until Kurt moved to the edge of the bed and stood. Slender fingers reached for the snap of his pants. The swirl of haze lying on the bed rose up shaking his head. Scooting to the end of the mattress dragging the duvet with him, thick, moist lips mouthed against bulge in Kurt’s crotch. Chewing the rigidity beneath thick cloth, Karl playfully pulled Kurt’s pants down. The lack of underwear gave the monster within its freedom. Karl gasped. 

The feeling of the fabric rolling down soft skin caused the boy standing beneath roaring water to shiver. In that misty bedroom Kurt forced his hand down to Karl’s swollen underwear. A quaking rush of air rolling from Kurt’s mouth blew the water from his lips. With one hand resting on the wall, the other reached out into the spray as if he actually held something. In two different realities Kurt let out a low, lingering moan.  
Full, soft lips made of shadowy apparition took the thick shaft all the way down to the base of Kurt’s impressive nine inches. Riding his lips up and down Karl pushed the journeyed until the ghostly Kurt pulled away. At that moment the kneeling boy felt the pressure of something splashing against his nose, cheek and lips. Licking salty skin, Karl abruptly threw his head back and let out a low, erotic growl. A stream of hot cream sprayed out across the rug and up Kurt’s leg.

Stinging of hot water beat against his swollen member causing Kurt to blink. Mouth frozen open as if time stood still, he stared down where his two hands hovered over empty space as if he actually held someone’s shoulders. Heart pounding against his ribs, even with open eyes, he could see those astounding hazels eyes staring up at him. Warm, white goo dripped form the misty nose. In two instances Kurt felt dreadful apprehension and shame. 

The fingers of his left hand closed tightly together as the voice of logic roared in Kurt’s head. The right hand remained extended out on a slight curve. A very real teen could feel invisible flesh pressing up against his palm. The shaky breath Kurt drew in pulled a sensation up from the very bottom of his feet. Reverberating out the top of his head the boy on his knees sang to him in the most stunning tones. 

The magical tones of a tenor washed away Kurt’s last objections. Kurt wanted this with every fiber of his sagging sanity. Closing his eyes two boys hotly kissed. One felt the disgrace of a premature act faded away while the other enjoyed bringing them both back to the brink again. Lying back on the messy sheets, Kurt allowed the spectral form of a boy explore his body. The mass of fuzzy hair racking hypersensitive skin accented the sensations of teeth lightly nibbling the nap of the neck. Purposely staying away from the ultimate erogenous zone, Karl . . . yes . . . the name aided . . . left little untouched. 

Then Karl reached over and grabbed something from a foggy side table. Fantasy and authenticity quivered at the feeling of cool and slick liquid being rubbed over Kurt’s full cock. With deliberate ease Karl threw his leg over Kurt so that he straddled him. Clasping Kurt’s throbbing member, Karl lowered himself upon it until the head pushed up into him. In two places Kurt’s eyes flew open but the steam rolling up around Kurt became one with that other place. Panting he felt every last pull of flesh as an entirely new sensation gripped him. The most private part of his virginal body pierced the most adorable teen. Completely enthralled, a different Kurt closed his eyes once more. 

The look on Karl’s face took Kurt’s breath away. Grey clouds flittered way revealing the substance beneath. The chin and jaw had the slightest hint of a teen’s five o’clock shadow. Pinky-brown nostrils flared with each delectable inch. The pain flashed with those glorious hazel orbs. Pleading blue eyes filled with concern but the boy on top only blew him a kiss and pressed on. Another inch and then Karl stopped to catch his breath. It took a few moments but, finally, the hair of Karl’s buttock rested on Kurt’s pelvis.

As if by instinct, Kurt’s hips rose up pressing his cock deeper into his lover. The boy on top leaned forward and their lips pressed into one another creating affectionate reassurance. The tenderness of their meeting allowed both to relax. In response, the boy on top began to move his body so that he rode up and down. The boy on the bottom found the rhythm and together they discovered something beautifully new. 

Pulling slowly away Karl stretched his back and threw his head back moaning with each heavily thrust. Kurt’s fingers traced tender lines up the side of Karl’s firm stomach. Pushing himself down onto the thick member extended into his body, Karl shivered and tightened up. Kurt’s eyes widened and then Karl threw himself forward. Again their mouth pressed together as teeth tugged at swollen lips. Lost rhythm quickly returned. 

Water blurred Kurt’s fluttering vision as his head rolled back allowing the streaming liquid to splash against his cheeks. Moaning, his body felt every glamorous motion. Pressure mounted and then he could no longer hold back. Palms pressed flatly against hot metal rose as his fingers curled in and then Kurt violently gyrated. Calling out, the seed of his manhood erupted from his body.


	15. That Someone

“Jake, can I ask you something?” Kurt looked across the little table. 

Saturday night and they met at one of the new pop up eateries on the Arc. The restaurant occupied a space off one of the main junctions sprouting several large fruit bearing trees. From where they sat Kurt could see the leaves jiggling in the flow of the recycled air. The sight distracted and pleased the teen. Like most of the new restaurants it served a wide variety of exotically experimental treats. Kurt had never tried curry before and he liked it.

“You know you can ask me anything, Kurt?” Jake patiently replied. For the past half hour he watched his young friend trying to hide his unease. 

The fact last night happened both elated and horrified the boy. Then, this morning he woke with his fingers wrapped about his crotch. To his surprise a lumpy line of crusty, dried whitish substance spread up past his belly button. Completely unexpected, he scurried off in a panic to clean off.

Remembering caused heat to rise in his cheeks. A long waft of air crossed Kurt’s lips. Sucking in his lower lip he rolled his jaw and then said in hushed tones, “Have you ever had . . . well . . . woken with sperm dried on your skin.”

Blinking Jake looked as if he tried not to laugh. Turning his head a quarter turn, he smiled and then quietly questioned, “You had a wet dream?”

Deeply embarrassed the redness of his skin deepened. Kurt’s head feel down to the left but his eyes reminded on Jake. He could not lie. He would not lie. In a meek tone he finally replied, “Yes.” 

Leaning forward Jake gave the boy a heartening look. “Kurt, that happens to all of us. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Kurt looked disgusted. Lowering his head more heat rose in his cheeks. Never had anything like that happen before. Yes, he found his loins tinkling every so often and he felt off pressures but to have it end like that. At first he blamed it on the hazel and quickly withdrew from the foolish position. No, the thanked the hue. That colour and those stunning amber-brown eyes opened up a whole new world. The problem rotated around the fact nothing physical supplemented what he felt.

Sitting back, intensely blinking, Kurt swallowed his breath. His heads started to rapidly move about. Then he suddenly stopped. Those eyes stared at him and Kurt’s heart skipped several beats. Admiration lingered within the pattern of colour and he swore a sweet misty face smiled. Flaccidness throbbed and the teen’s cheek flushed deeper red. 

Noting the look on Kurt’s face, Jake paused. His eyes moved about though his head stayed still—seven other occupied tables. No one sat close but the way path this conversation took required privacy and tact. Downing his drink, Jake said, “Kurt, let’s go for a walk.”

Nodding, the boy drained the rest of the juice and slowly rose. In the old days Burt would have made payment by pressing his thumb against a data pad but on the Arc no one paid for anything. Sorrow stuck. He missed his father but then he felt that insubstantial touched on the back of his hand. Startled Kurt leaned on the table for a second.

“Kurt?” Jake whispered as he placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Shaking his head, Kurt sighed. “Jake, I really need to . . .”

Pulling on an expertly homemade jacket, Jake pulled Kurt along. Following, the boy said nothing. He could have peed himself for bringing the subject up but he felt so safe around Jake. Over the passage of weeks Kurt learned Jake had a type of wisdom his father did not have. At the same time he realized he would never forget the gentle words Burt had shared with him—be honest to himself and others. The rudeness of reality hobbled those teachings but he never let them died. He just guarded what he considered to be a precious resource.

They did not have to go far to find a private place only a mechanic would know of. Jake’s pass opened up a slight indent in the wall. On the other side they found one of those long narrow rooms where several support systems met. The light came on revealing water, power and air systems Kurt knew off by heart along with crates of spare parts. At the far end of the chamber a small oval window opened out space. The arm of the Arc reached down to the center core. The constant blanket of darkness speckled with billions of points of light captured the imagination.

Slowly walked to the end of the room. Kurt stared out through the metal and gel transparency. His left hand fell on the wall. Something inconsistent overlapped his fingers. A shiver ran up Kurt’s back. In a low quivering voice, Kurt said, “Jake, I’m going mad.”

Standing half way down the room’s lengths, Jake pulled his lips together. “Kurt, come and sit.”

Turning Kurt stared at Jake even as he felt lips pressed against the back of his left hand. The oversized mechanic sat on one of the supply boxes and then gestured for Kurt to sit. Meekly Kurt stepped closer. His butt landed heavily on the metal container. 

“I thought you would feel safer.” Jake grinned at the boy.

“Thank you.” Kurt’s tone is low and quiet. 

Jake patted the boy lightly on the arm. “Did your dad every have that kind of talk to you.”

“No.”

“It’s nothing to be afraid of Kurt. Your body is telling you its finding sex interesting.”

A shocked looked passed over Kurt’s face. 

Jake grinned. “There are others on this ship who will find you attractive.”

“Yeah and nine children later.”

“Is that what this is all about?”

Blushing, Kurt looked away.

Jake patted Kurt on the thigh. “We’re you with someone? A boy? A girl?”

Kurt’s face paled and he turned away. “No . . .”

Inclining so that he sat closer Jake squeezed the teen’s knee. “Sorry, if I have made you uncomfortable. It’s just that you’ve been so . . .”

“Up and down. Rachel, Mercedes and the others whisper I’m just weird.”

“Are you have trouble with them?”

Kurt shook his head. “They’re my friends. Most of them, anyhow.”

“That’s good Kurt.”

“I guess so.”

“Which one do you have a crush on?”

The statement caught Kurt completely off guard. Shuffling back onto the center of the metal container she folded his legs underneath him. His head rose and fell as he shook it in all direction. He suddenly stopped and looked at Jake. “Sam?”

“Sam?” Jake sounded a bit surprised.

Kurt blushed and then said with conviction. “He’s cute and nice but . . .”

Jake’s eyebrows went up. “But?”

Kurt looked down the space between his legs. He sighed. “It’s more than Sam or even Finn.”

A soft grin stretched Jake’s lips. “Oh, I see. You’re interested in two straight boys.”

“Yes . . . no . . . yes but then . . .” Kurt’s eyes suddenly changed colour. The blue deepened as his face turned away. He started at the stars for a bit and then said in a soft tone. “I was with someone . . . well . . . sort of.”

Concern flashed across Jake’s face. Kurt had told him a few outlandish things over the past few weeks. “What do you mean?”

Looking down at his hands folded over one another on his lap, Kurt’s voice could barely be heard. “When I got to my cubicle last night I took a shower. Well . . . I ejaculated.” 

“Again, that is nothing to worry about.”

“I didn’t touch myself.” 

“You must have had quite the fant . . . Kurt did it involve hazel?”

Pulling his lips in Kurt nodded in the most innocent manner.

“Have you told Pillsbury?” Jake pulled himself up straight. 

“Yes, but . . .” Kurt’s voice sounded so weak. 

“But not about this.” Jake’s hand fell upon boy’s forehead. “About that.”

“Yeah.”

“Kurt, you need to.”

“I can’t.”

“Kurt, it may help.

“Jake, I can’t believe it myself but it feels so . . . real. I feel this person . . . thing . . . person. I fell him touch me. I sometime know what he thinks.”

“He?”

“He.”

“I know you’re lonely, Kurt. Could it you have created someone to fill that whole in your life?”

Pulling back, Kurt gave Jake an awkwardly angry glare. 

“I sorry, Kurt,” Jake sat up. “I am just trying to understand.”

The teen nodded and then bashfully smiled. “That colour pulled me from the edge, Jake.”

“You talked to Pillsbury about your . . . that?”

“Yes!” Kurt snapped.

Jake made a face. Sliding along the crate so that he sat closer to Kurt, he said in a soft tone, “Kurt, I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“I know but . . .” Kurt sighed, “Then Karofsky.”

Jake’s hand came up to his head. “Is he still orchestrating things? Is Puckerman involved?”

Kurt shrugged. “Yesterday Rachel, Lauren and I saw him met Tim and others on the tram from the spike eleven is on. That doesn’t mean anything.”

Letting out a long, hard breath, Jake shook his head in many directions. “I’s so sorry, Kurt. I should have been paying more attention. I’ll talk to Schuester.”

“He hates me because he tried to kiss me and I pushed him away.” Kurt’s eyes went wide them moment the words escaped his mouth. 

Puzzled, Jake softly asked, “Puckerman?”

A heavy puff of air rolled form the teen’s mouth as if he knew he had to tell the truth. “No, Karofsky. He kissed me a few weeks before I was removed from the farm.”

“He got upset?” Compassion filled Jake’s eyes and tone.

“He chased me and when I told him no half a dozen times he beat the living crap out of me. He was going to . . .”

“Kurt, no . . .” Jake got up and took Kurt in his arms. “Oh, my dear boy. Has he?”

Leaning in against Jake’s shoulder Kurt shook his head. Emotion welled deep within but they would not release. Shuddering fear rolled through him jarring the great locks holding his heart. Sleeping for two hundred years meant nothing. In relative terms the attack had occurred only a few months ago. When the monks found him he had fallen from the trees on the ledge above. The excuse did not explained the torn undergarments. 

“Kurt, I’m proud of you for telling me this.” Jake pulled away and stared into Kurt’s slightly over moist eyes. “You will need to speak to Pillsbury about this.”

Kurt pouted and then nodded. “Do you talk to the sub-lieutenant about me?”

“No, Kurt, I would never abandon your trust.” Jake winked. 

A weak smile etched lines on Kurt’s face. “Jake, those hazel eyes . . . they’ve soothed me for weeks and it’s getting stronger. At first it just made me feel comforted but now I feel . . .” 

Sitting back against the piping running along the wall, Jake pulled his face together. “Answer me this Kurt. Do you ever see Karofsky in these visions?”

Making a face, Kurt scowled. His hand came up in front of him as if he wanted to push something away. “No.”

Jake looked relieved. “Do you still see the hazel when you are upset?”

“Yes, but now . . .” Kurt looked away. He wanted to close his eyes to experience the fullness of the security he found there but he could not. When he glanced back, his eyes appeared a little wild. “I’m going nuts.”

“No, Kurt?” Jake placed a hand on each of Kurt’s shoulder so that they faced one another. “Have you heard of hyper-dreams?”

Kurt nodded. “Sub-lieutenant Pillsbury said it is a side effect of long periods of chemically induced sleep.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that but what she told you is more or less right. Before we woke you all up, the crew slept in shifts. Every ten years they woke some of us up and the current crew went to sleep. Even then we activated the wake up cycles now and then. When I think about it we should have done the same for all of you. No one has traveled this far before. I’m sorry Kurt, we did not know what two hundred years would do.”

“Jake at times I fell I am becoming unglued. It feels as if someone is arguing in my head.” Kurt started to shake. “It’s getting too much.”

Sliding forward on the metal crate, Jake pulled Kurt to him. The boy enveloped the mechanic in his arms. The moment his eyes closed the hazel returned with surprising strength. A shudder rolled down his back.

Jake’s head came up. “I felt that.”

Kurt opened his eyes and that faint hazel hue hovered there. “Jake, it comforts and makes me feel so connected, safe and loved.”

“Loved?” Pulling away from Kurt, Jake stared.

Hesitating, Kurt really did not know what the word had come from. His mouth hung low for a moment and then he said, “I’m only fifteen and, as Puckerman says, a useless virgin. How would I know what sexual love feels like. Parents and friends, yes but . . . I wanted what I experienced last night more than anything. Even though I realized it probably lived only in my mind, the sensation of my . . . private bit sliding into another person mesmerized me.”

“Kurt, you are not useless.” Jake whispered. 

“I’m not doing my duty. Puckerman is . . . I haven’t had sex. The idea actually petrifies me. But, then, in the shower it felt so . . . real. The smell of that other boy’s breath. The touch of his skin and the way his heart pounded with mine.”

Jake remained silent for a moment. 

“I see him, Jake.”

“What does this person look like?”

“Everything is misty including him but at times I see the faint flicker of skin tones. But those eyes. They take my breath away. As I said it seems to be getting stronger.”

“Oh?”

“Last night I could see he had oddly Eurasian features topped with the most delectable dark curly hair. Those eyes just held me. It is as if I am looking into a mirror that is reflecting more than myself. Then that coy little one sided smirk of his melted me. He looks . . .”

“Like?”

“Jake, he looks like the . . .” The last word came out a barely a puff of air as if gathering his strength. “Like the captain.” 

Rubbing his tongue heavily along his bottom lip, Jake looked disturbed. 

Wide eyed, Kurt asked, “Am I insane?”

Shaking his head, the older man could not hide his anxiety. “Kurt, I’m not going to lie to you but this is more serious than I had thought.”

His chin quivering, Kurt look like an animal ready to flee. “I’m scared.”

“There is nothing to be frightened of.” Glancing at the thick armband on his right forearm, Jake nodded to himself and then rose. “I’ll be with you every step of the way. Come with me, Kurt.”

The boy stared. 

Jake gave Kurt a warm look. “It’s alright. I think we need to see Doctor Owen.” 

They found the doctor in her quarters next to the infirmary. She and the medical staff lived between it and the laboratories. The room looked no larger than Lieutenant Sylvester’s office. The couch automatically folded out into a bed and the shelves contained what looked like personal items and. An old painting occupied the where the huge monitor would have been. The beautiful country landscape came from a time prior to the environmental climate change forced on an unprepared world in the late twenty first century.

The two adults quietly spoke while Kurt stood with his back to the closed door. He did not really want to know what they spoke about but an occasional word reached his ears. His mind filtered them but that wonderfully odd sensation surrounded him. Fingers rested in his left hand spreading warmth up into his chest. His body stopped trembling even though the argument went on within his mind and heart. 

“Kurt?” Jake quietly said.

The boy jumped and the sensation in his chest surged when he felt those imaginary fingers pressed tight. Owen stared at him from behind the desk. How long?

“Kurt, please come here,” Doctor Owen’s fingers moved across the illumined, holographic keyboard projected onto the desktop. 

Not knowing what would happen, Kurt softly padded forward and stopped in front of the desk. He glanced from Owen to Jake and back.

Smiling Owen said, “Jake tells me you may be suffering from hyper-dreams?”

The boy shrugged. That hand in his left moved with his shoulder. He found it hard to look at the Owen. 

The doctor walked over and sat on the end of the couch. “Why don’t we sit?”

Kurt’s eyes wandered to Jake. 

“Jake can stay if it makes you feel better.” Owen shifts so she faced the teen. 

“You’re recording this?” Kurt suddenly blurt out.

One of the doctor’s eyebrows went up. 

“He’s not a dim boy,” Jake commented.

“I can see that.” The doctor nodded and looked to the teen. “I can turn it off.”

Kurt nodded. 

Owen studied him even though she did not make it obvious. Getting up she went back to the deck and typed something. “You’re favouring your left leg. Are you still experiencing pain?” 

“My back still hurts.” Kurt felt a sense of relief she had taken that course.

Sitting again, the doctor smiled. “I’ll take a look at that. You’re still being bullied?”

“Yes, but it not as bad.”

‘Karofsky?”

In the background Jake nodded. “It’s a little more complicated than just bullying, doctor.”

“Oh?” Owen looked to the mechanic. 

Jake warmly gazed at Kurt. “I’ll let Kurt tell you if he wants.” 

“Yes.” Kurt’s tone had an edge to it.

The doctor, who had be recently promoted to the rank of lieutenant, glanced at Jake. “Kurt, you’ve been talking to Sub-lieutenant Pillsbury.”

“Yes, but . . .”

“You haven’t told her everything have you?”

“No.”

“You trust Jake?”

Kurt glanced at the mechanic with emotional eyes. “He’s like my father.”

The doctor nodded and Jake smiled. Owen looked to the man. “You might as well sit Jake.”

Hauling the chair out from behind the desk, Jake sat opposite the couch and close to Kurt. Cheerfully gazing at Kurt he smiled.

The teen felt a huge release when the doctor asked Jake to sit. The tightness in his chest swirled away within the comfort a special colour provided. He knew he had to speak of these things but at the same time he felt like he betrayed a deep trust. The pain he felt in that place in his stomach when he ate the wrong foods erupted. It bubbled and burned beneath his heart. 

Doctor Owen’s well practiced patience and calm stabilized the atmosphere in the room. After his beating, Kurt learned of her compassionate bedside manner first hand. Finding her compelling and genuine, she reminded him of his mother. Today he needed that. The unexpected sensations he felt after the shower had subsided into something much more enduring but no less scary. Now when he closed his eyes he saw the speckled green and hazel stared up with large, puppy eyes filled with great longing and desire. 

From out of nowhere a warm puff of air caressed his cheek accompanied by the haunting smell of coffee. Kurt’s lips slowly spread into a deep, endearing smile. Haze rolled up around him and Kurt saw himself sitting on the edge of his sleeping pod. Last night when he finally dragged himself to bed, he had not been alone. Tender misty hands pulled him down to the plush mattress. Arms wrapped themselves about him leaving the most profound awareness in Kurt’s heavy chest. The skin of his cheek and neck tickled from the feeling of insubstantial curls brushing against him. Waking up with dried liquid on his stomach freaked him out. 

“Kurt,” Owen spoke in gentle even tone. 

The teen looked puzzled and then he pulled back. The doctor’s eyes bore into him with an intensity that made him nervous. At that moment he felt those fingers wrapped in his. A soft breath of relief shot from his Kurt’s throat.

Owen did not look away from the teen. “Jake told me a little but I need to hear what you have to say. I will also need to speak to Sub-lieutenant Pillsbury.” 

“She does not know what Kurt is going to tell you.” Jake added.

Glancing at Jake, Kurt bit his lip and then nodded. 

“I see.” Owen glanced at Jake and then leaned back into the couch. “Kurt, don’t rush but please don’t leave anything out.”

“Where do you want me to start?” Kurt’s tone almost got lost in his heavy breathing.

“Go back to the beginning.”

“It’s late.”

“Kurt, don’t worry about time.”

Starting off slowly, Kurt began to speak. The words came from all over with no real rhyme or reason. At times wonder filled his eyes and then it would die away into moody darkness. He stopped many times to collect himself. Doctor Owen made tea for all of them and Jake just sat there listening. Like a real parent, the mechanic struggled with the greater story.

Kurt spoke about what he felt like as he woke after the long sleep. He shivered and almost cried when he brought up the bullying. His face brightened when he spoke of the hazel he saw when he closed his eyes. Stumbling words broke up phrases and getting flustered he found calm when he felt those hands upon him. Silence took him for a few seconds as a warm smirk lite his face.  
Elation filled him when he spoke of the shower, though his words came out with flushed embarrassment.

Owen did not interrupt. She did not judge or wave a finger as he Sylvester would have. That motherly way anchoring Kurt where he sat. With Jake’s strong, soft presence it made him feel seven again. His mother had not gotten sick yet and, with his dad, they would sit around in the late night light of an old style flashlight talking, playing games and sometimes singing. Burt did not have good tone but then who did when it came to modern music. 

The teen knew the two adults watched his ever changing expressions as his emotions went every which way. It all came gushing out. Kurt spoke his childhood, the death of his parents and Karofsky almost raping him. Twice Jake leaned forward to comfort the boy when he got too upset. Owen never touched him even at the times Kurt wished she would. To embrace his mom again would heal everything but then he knew that would not happen. An orphan is an orphan after all.

The physical touch soothed but one thing held it all together for him—that soft hazel hand in his. The pulse of blood pumping through that unseen hand made breathing easy and uncluttered difficult thoughts and sentiments. The longer he felt it the deeper the soft aching in his heart grew. He wanted that person, that boy or whoever reality may produce, to be there with him in the most real sense.

Fearful eyes switched from man to woman but it felt good to unburden himself. Longing touched him with every syllable. A shiver ran up Kurt’s backside to the base of his neck. Invisible fingers tightened about his. A wisp of sweet breath tickled his nose. Kurt fell silent. His head bowed down as he looked at his up turned palm with the fingers spread as if something separated them.

Silence. No one spoke for a couple of minutes. Looking at where the teen gazed, the newly promoted Lieutenant Owen looked away toward the desk. Pursing her lips, for the first time since they arrived, she revealed unpracticed emotion. The doctor’s eyes went up to the right and the expression on Jake’s face hardened. 

Kurt’s brows scrunched together as a sense of dread touched his heart only to find itself defused within hazel mists. “Doctor Owen?”

Spinning to face Kurt that clinical appearance returned. For a few long seconds she sat there as if lost in thought. Finally she said, “Kurt, I’m not going to give you a story. Jake is right. If this is hyper-dreams it could be something very serious. No one has experienced side effects this long.”

Kurt’s eyes went wide and Jake reached out. A very real hand fell on his Kurt’s thigh. 

The doctor continued. “With your permission, I would like to monitor you around the clock and especially when you’re sleeping.”

Jake sat back. “It is necessary?”

“It will help?” Owen replied.

“Will it hurt?” Distress filled Kurt’s voice but then it faded suddenly. Those fingers squeezed again. Kurt’s hand physically reacted as if something moved against it.

The doctor smiled. “No. We can do it through your pod but I will need you to wear a bracelet.”

“Okay.” The tone squeaked out like a timid kitten not sure of what to do. 

“Good.” The doctor rose. “Come with me and we will set it all up. I’ll need to a full body scan to calibrate the systems.”

Jake looked perplexed.

“You too Jake. Kurt obviously trusts you. Having you around will be a calming experience.”

Together they left the doctor’s office-sleeping area and walked down the hall to the infirmary. Kurt paused as soon as the door slid open and he saw the stark interior. The bed he had lain in filled the alcove to his right. Apprehension filled him but those fingers coiled around his provided unimaginable sense of belonging.

Jake placed a hand on the boys shoulder. “It’s alright, Kurt, I’ll be right here.” 

Hazel erupted around Kurt producing a smirk. Slowly he stepped into the room. 

Nurse Carmen rose from her little desk and approached the doctor. “An emergency, Doctor?”

“No,” the doctor looked around at the medical bays of the ward and its five occupants. “We’ll need to set up for a synapsis body scan and well need a bio-clasp for Kurt here.”

“Yes, doctor.” The nurse turned toward one of the empty bays. 

“No, we’ll use bay fifty three.” Owen instructed. 

The nurse gave the doctor an odd look. Owen nodded and then turned toward a computer panel and began to type. 

Before Kurt could ask the question, Doctor Owen said to him. “Kurt, would you please go with the nurse. She’ll get everything set up and I’ll be along in a little bit.” 

Mushing his lips together, Kurt looked at Jake and then followed. Cold and uninviting, bay fifty three occupied a separate chamber next to the infirmary. It looked nothing like the other bays with no visible instruments or shelving. Dark except for a single bar of brightness over the bed and a wall of tiny flashing lights, a single bed jutted out of the wall with a sheet on it. Over it hovered a crescent shaped bar with what looked like glass in it facing the bed.

Without being told Kurt went to the bed. Stopping next to it, he stared at it for a moment and the hopped up. In that instant an arm brushed up against his as if someone leaned close. The puff of air caressing his ear caught Kurt’s breath. Then moistness as if someone kissed him reassuringly on the cheek. The warm quivering running down his back pleased him.

Leaning ever so slightly into the tender sensation, Kurt’s eyes shifted toward the open door. Pulling his lips in, he did not like where he found himself. 

Out in the hall Owen stepped close to Carmen who looked as if she pulled on some sort of outfit. Kurt could make out part of Jake standing nearby. Doctor and nurse spoke in low tone but here and there Kurt made out words. 

“. . . the whole gambit . . . those doctor . . . plus all the blood works and . . . ” The doctor instructed the nurse.

The nurse responded, “Including . . .”

“Especially and pay . . . to . . . ensure that . . .”

Anxious, Kurt began to realize the abnormality he faced. Regardless of the sense of someone sitting on the bed beside him, he felt suddenly sick.

Jake’s hand reached out to the doctor. He said something and she replied. Again, Kurt only caught part of it. 

Owen responded. “. . . do all . . . captain will require . . . and then . . .”

Jake’s voice sounded hushed but stronger. “It’s that serious?”

Owen shrugged. “I don’t . . . but we . . .”

Kurt swallowed. Fighting to control a sudden desire to run, once more he felt fingers pressed against his. A shoulder pressed against him as an arm wrapped around his waist.

“. . . going on . . .” Jake demanded, his voice rising.

“Jake, keep your . . .” The doctor glanced into the room and stepped away from the door.

Nurse Carmen strolled into the chamber wearing a full enclosure suit. With care she lowered the teen down onto the bed. Staring up at dark ceiling Kurt apprehensively watched the bar as it swung into position. Fist balling a tear rolled down his cheek but then he felt a finger on his skin catching it. Glancing that way, he caught a whiff of coffee. Lips hovered by his ear and in his mind Kurt clearly heard the whispered voices out in the hall.

Jake said. “He’s afraid. You can see if from here.”

Owen replied. “Kurt has nothing to worry about.”

“Doctor now you’re starting to freak me out.”

“This is normal,” 

“Doctor what’s really going on here. That’s an isolation chamber.” 

“Precautions.” The doctor paused and then sighed. “Okay, Jake, I will be straight with you. This is far more serious than I thought. Hildebrandt’s team and the captain have been informed. Security will be in the ward by now. Once we have Kurt settled, you’ll need to go into fifty two and myself in fifty one.”

“Why?” Jake sounded puzzled.

The doctor’s tone lost its clinical nature. “Jake, the monitors detected a fourth lifeform in my office with us."


	16. Standing Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you know the TV show you will recognize I barrowed a couple of scenes from Season Two and added my own twist for fun.

“Where’ve you been?” Rachel stepped out of the blind spot and hovered over the table.

Eyes rotating up from his food Kurt detested the idea his privacy being disturbed. Suddenly recalling where he sat and grunted. The mind just did not register anything other than the functions the body needed to keep going. Rachel tried to walk with grace but her footfalls had a certain sound to them. He should have heard her coming.

“With all the new places to eat you came where?” Rachel complained as she slid into the stationary seat attached to the metal table bolted into the floor. “Everyone is trying new stuff and you want, what? Boring and bland.”

“Yup, boring and bland, that’s me.” Kurt blankly replied.

The look Rachel gave Kurt could have stopped a charging animal in its tracks. “My, you’re being a little glum today.”

Kurt frowned. Even if he could not tell her the real reason, he would not. She would freak out. He freaked out. For three days they kept him in that room and for three days they stuck to the story of hyper-dreams even though Kurt knew the real cause—that fourth lifeform. Hildebrandt came with others and poked, prodded and scanned him. The middle aged doctor barely gave Kurt time to catch his breath. At night they hooked him up to machines that made sleep uncomfortable. Kurt hated ever last moment.

From the first moment he entered the room Kurt despaired. Later that night, when they left him alone, he fought to control himself. He longed for soothing hazel to being calm but when he closed his eyes he found nothing. The monitoring devices must have detected his destress because the nurse, wearing a head to foot enclosed body suit, gave Kurt something to get him to sleep.

The next day Kurt felt mentally overwhelmed and physically exasperated by the pain etched in his stomach. That afternoon Doctor Owen did something about the ulcer. The nurse told him they would not need to put him under for the simple operation. Using nano-technology the process went easily and with little discomforted. Not wishing to watch the simple incursion of a tube, Kurt closed his eyes hoping. The soothing hue did not return. As the day wore on he found himself sitting on the edge of the raised bed shivering.

Kurt lost himself in vacant thought. When the door slid shut sealing the chamber the disparaging gloom sapped his energy. Afraid to sleep he knew what he would find—a lack of soothing peace. The hunger for a touch or a puff of coffee breath grew with each minute but it never actualized. The heart plummeted and then panic struck. Wailing and screaming, the nurse finally sedated him.

Awaking to the rudeness of heads hidden within glassy helmets startled the teen. The scanning bar lay close to his head and they had assorted other things Kurt did not recognize on a cart. Asking questions proved useless. Then, without reason, they dragged the cart into the sterilizing hallway and left him. Lying half naked on his side, Kurt pushed himself up and found a regulation shirt and pulled it on. Absently nibbling on the food a machine dispensed for him, he eventually pushed it away. Curling up into a ball he moped.

A little over an hour later, Jake showed up. Even though the mechanic wore an enclosure suit it felt so good when that gloved hand touched his. Throwing himself at Jake, Kurt held onto him as if he had not seen a human in over a year.

After Jake left, Kurt ponder things for a short while and then lay down. Tiny blinking lights became his only friend. In time weariness took him over and he shut his eyes. The sight he found looked dark and foreboding. Falling deeper into himself he realized something—logic and emotions no longer argued. Everything had gone silent. The wonders of hazel might have departed but so had those damaging desires. In the silence of his mind a spark of understanding grew like a budding flower—the soothing hue had abandoned him before. Back then he did not know of the truth his heart now comprehended.

Hildebrandt made a brief appearance shortly after Kurt woke the third day. Following his departure Doctor Owen said she would be running a few tests on his back and stomach. To his surprise she led him from the isolation chamber into the main ward. Laying him in the same bed he enjoyed a few weeks ago she gently scanned and touched the muscles of his back followed by a deep heat application. All the while she talked about what to expect following his treatments of hyper dreams. Late in the afternoon Jake showed up with a smile on his face and a fresh change of Kurt’s homemade cloths. Kurt regarded him for a long moment and then buried his head in his shoulders for a soft hug. When his eyes slide shut he shuddered. He needed to see those eyes.

The feisty brunette poked at the rubberized wristband hugging Kurt’s forearm with a mischievous glint. “What’s that?”

Looking up from the food he played with, Kurt half smiled. “It’s meant to monitor me.”

“What?” Rachel pulled out a chair and sat.

“Yeah, you probably heard it all by now.” Kurt tapped his head. “Sick in the between the ears.”

Rachel’s face changed as if she realized something. Letting out a sigh, she leaned closer placing a hand on her friends arm. “You have to admit you’ve been odder than usual lately.”

“Yup nuts all round.”

“Kurt?”

“You know bonkers, loopy, fruitcake in more than one way.”

“What’s bugging you?

“Nothing.”

“Oh don’t give me that.”

“Rachel?”

“Did you get caught in seventy two again?”

“No.”

“No one’s seen you in three days? Schuester wouldn’t tell us anything.”

“Yeah, I had little choice in that one.”

“Really?”

“Back off Rachel?”

Rachel set her jaw. “Out with it Kurt.”

Swearing under his breath, Kurt gave Rachel a hard, sideways gaze. Glancing away he closed his eyes and shuddered—bloody, lousy black. His hand fell limply onto the table top raddling the tray.

In a softer tone. Rachel questioned. “We’re friends, Kurt.”

A large sigh flew from Kurt’s lips. Staring into her eyes, he told the official truth, “Doctor Owen says I’m suffering from hyper dreams.”

The girl’s dark eyebrows went up.

Kurt lifted his hand with the bracelet on it. Turning his head around, he viewed the band from different angles. Two small yellow lights blinked on the underside. “This thing is supposed to monitor my brainwaves and other stuff.”

“Oh, my god.” Rachel sat back as if Kurt might be contagious.

“You can’t catch it Rachel.” Kurt pushed his plate away. He had barely touched its contents.

“Will that explain why you have been . . .” Rachel cut herself off.

More than a little frustrated Kurt let a few phrases tumbled from his tongue. “Teetering on the edge. Lost a screw. A few cards short of a full deck. Light headed.”

“Why are you angry?”

“Oh and I missed the favourite . . . forgot to pay the brain bill.”

“Kurt!”

Throwing himself back into the wire mesh chair, Kurt raked his hands down over his face. Pressure—fucking, bloody pressure. Why cannot she accept? Drawing in a deep, long breath, Kurt imagined those eyes and felt a faint hint of passiveness. “They brought Hildebrandt to see me. You know what that means.”

Rachel scowled.

Kurt could not make out if her expression had to do with what he had said or how he has said it or the dropping of a name. Hildebrandt headed the research programs on the ship. The brilliant man taught several classes in the advanced sciences.

Scooting closer, she gave him a serious look. “Are you okay?”

Waving the bracelet in the air, Kurt sighed. Events remained raw and his heart felt utterly void of emotion. Memories did not answer the questions pounding in his chest. “I guess . . . I‘m not sure.”

Patting his arm, Rachel said, “Sorry Kurt.”

Half-heartedly, Kurt replied in a quiet tone, “Its okay Rachel.”

“No it isn’t.” Rachel pushed her lips out.

“Doctor Owen says I wasn’t myself.” The echoing ping of a lie echoed awkwardly in his heart.

The girl softly stated, “Let’s talk about something else.”

Kurt smiled even though a great black hole sucked all the life out of him.

Grinning Rachel suggested “Do you want to go try out that Mexican place.”

Kurt’s eyebrows crinkled. “That’s spicy right?”

Rachel nodded.

“The doctor told me to keep away from exotic food for a while. Thus this.” Kurt pushed the tray across the table. The contents looked rather generic.

“Oh. I guess that is why you’re in here.” She looked at the plate. “Not hungry?”

“Sort of but then I need to eat something.”

“What about the Limabean?”

“Okay.”

Standing, Rachel held her arm out to Kurt. Smiling the boy rose and slipped his arm in hers. Leaning into her they began to walk. Suddenly she came to a halt. “Will you excuse me while I run off to the washroom?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Kurt glanced at the nearby table.

“Back in a sec.” Rachel trotted off.

Kurt slowly sat. Closing his eyes he wished but encountered continuing disappointed. Slumping forward Kurt press his fingers into this hair. Stopping before he got too far, his eyes rolled. Glancing at his fingers he noticed they twitched with the beating of his heart. The struggling of his body mirrored the loneliness dragging on him.

Sometime later Kurt stirred from his contemplations when he heard footsteps approaching. Rachel smiled and offered her arm again. Shaking his head he stood and took it. Immediately she wrapped arms and pulled Kurt close.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you.” Kurt apologized.

Patting his hand, Rachel said in a calm tone. “No harm done.”

“Owen side the moodiness will fade in a week or so.” Another notch for Kurt’s much hated lie count.

Rachel playfully responded by tugged on Kurt to make him walk a little faster. Skipping until their footfalls synchronized Kurt fell into step. Chit chatting about nothing important they made their way to the tram. The mesh mash of sounds and humanity, while irritate from time to time, represented reality. Moving through the throngs of teens made Kurt feel as if life gradually returned to normal.

Squeezing past another person pushing out, Kurt stopped a few steps inside and looked about. Glancing at Rachel his face pulled together. “This isn’t a good idea.”

Most of the tables had teens sitting at them nosily jabbering away. People stood about in groups talking. The lineup to get drinks appeared to be an organized jumble. The place always got hectic at class breaks and when the formal part of the day ended. The Captain’s Freedom dropped the structured part of the day by four hours making things more fluid. Other coffee houses had opened up around the ship catching on the Limabean’s popularity but the original remained a favourite.

“Bah,” The aggressive brunette marched on and then turned to the left away from the lineup at the bar.

Eyes following her, Kurt called out, “Rachel?”

Spinning on one heel Rachel bobbed her head toward the far wall. Gathered over three table sat a familiar group of teens. Artie, Mike, Tina and Sam jovially spoke to each other. The tall jock crouched down between Artie and Tina. The jock stood when he noticed Rachel. Stepping away from the tables, Finn enveloped Kurt in his strong arms giving him a firm hug. One by one each of them greeted Kurt in their own way. The physical gestures lifted Kurt’s spirits.

“Hey, hot stuff, how’s it hang’n?” The stunning Latino teen maneuvered through the tables carrying a tray of hot drinks.

Spinning around Kurt blushed at the impish grin on Santana’s face. Lauren came up behind her holding a tray of assorted goodies. The group surrounding Kurt broke up followed by the sounds of several chairs scrapping against the floor.

“Love the new jewelry.” Santana sarcastically pointed out. “Starting a new line?”

“Hey, good to see you’re out.” Lauren smiled as she moved around Santana. “I tried to see you but they wouldn’t let me.”

“I wasn’t in the mood for visitors.” In no possible way could Kurt recount reality. “The treatments weren’t pleasant.”

Finn pulled out one of the chairs for him. “Come on Kurt, take the seat of honour.”

A little bewildered, Kurt just stood. “What’s this all about?”

Smiling like a Cheshire cat Rachel put a hand on Kurt shoulder and said, “Jake told us you needed to be with friends.”

A hand came up to his chin. The glow in his heart expanded driving most of his lingering fears aside. That wonderful man understood Kurt more that he did himself. Far from the comfort he ultimately craved, the sentiment soothed nonetheless. They must really like him to stage an impromptu party.

“Come on Kurt,” Artie reached out and patted the seat.

Sam smiled. With is foot he pushed the chair out a little more. “Yes, sit bro.”

“Where’s Mercedes, Brittany, Quinn and Puckerman?” Kurt hesitated on the last name.

Placing the tray down on the center table, Santana answered, “Brittany is doing something with mathematics that makes my head spin. Quinn got in trouble with Sumers.”

“Mercedes isn’t feeling well,” Sam said with a hint of sadness. “Ensign Del Monico says it a flu.”

“I hope she’ll be up and about for the competition?” Kurt adjusted the chair and sat.

Patting her fiend on the shoulder, Lauren squeezed by and put her tray down on the other table. “She’ll be up in a couple of days.”

“No one’s seen Puck today?” Finn added as she picked up the drink he ordered.

“We’ve been worried about you.” Tina grinned. She reached out to and studied the drinks. Picking up two seemingly unrelated mugs she handed one to Artie.

Suddenly Kurt turned to Rachel with an intrigued look. “You set this up.”

Rachel grinned.

Bumping up against her shoulder, Kurt looked distressed. “Oh, I’m so sorry about ripping into you.”

Rachel bumped him back with a playful smile.

The legs of Santana’s chair annoyingly scraped of the floor as she squeezed between Tina and Mike. Sam pushed over one seat closer to Mike opening up a space beside Rachel for Lauren.

“We got you the usual, Kurt?” Mike said with a smirk as he handed a mug to Kurt.

Taking the cup, Kurt nodded. “Thank you.”

“You missed the fun this week?” Sam said with a huge smile as he reached out for a sugar cookie and then his hot beverage.

“Oh?” Kurt sipped on his fake coffee. It tasted good.

“We told Mr. Shu what we want to sing.” Santana proudly announced as her eyes fell on Rachel.

“We’re allowed three numbers. We are doing two 1 get the led in along with Finn.” Rachel puffed herself up even as Finn looked a little sullen.

“Yeah.” Santana rolled her eyes.

Artie snickered and then said, “We decided to let you choose the last one, Kurt.”

“Anything you want?” Tina chimed in.

Kurt gave them all a puzzled look. “Shu agreed?”

Lauren chuckled. “I threatened to wrestle him if he didn’t.”

“Now I would’ve liked to have seen that.” Kurt chuckled.

“Seriously Kurt,” Lauren went on. “We all pouted like Rachel and he gave in.”

“Hay, hay,” Rachel lightheartedly responded.

From out of nowhere a flash of a memory stunned Kurt. The words—Jake, the monitors detected a fourth lifeform in my office with us—bounced about in his head. Emotion drained and the face went blank.

“Kurt?” Lauren said in a low raspy tone.

“Tina, call Jake,” Rachel’s voice floated across the table.

Tina yanked a tiny portable computing device from a pouch on the side of Artie’s chair.

Drifting away Kurt’s world consisted of only what his remembrances would allow. Ribs pulsed with the thumping of his heart and steaming water pounding around him. Lips pressed together in the heat of the moment and the rush of cool, silky liquid smeared against his hardened arousal. The feel and sounds rose and fell accompanied by a soft, lingering melody. The word—shit—escaped his lips in such a soft tone it had been barely audible. He had lost his virginity in a way no one would believe.

“Hey bro?” Sam pleaded.

The soft whisperings of Sam’s harmless tones echoed within Kurt’s thoughts. Slowly he glanced to his left where Sam sat on the edge of his chair ready to stand. In a weak, high pitched whisper, Kurt asked, “Any song?”

Relieved, Sam confirmed, “Any song you want.”

In the corner of Kurt eye saw Santana softly nodding. Suddenly he began to sing.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3XM_uptMaaw Artist Theo Tams – the voice is not right but the song is.)

 _Never one to give up so you dig in your heels_  
_No matter how bad you know it feels_

A blanket of silence gradually fell upon the Limabean.

 _You say you're coming to terms with the way that you are_  
_But you've forgotten who you could be_

Rumbling tremors rolled up Kurt’s arms and back producing a sensation unadulterated joy. Mislaid sentiment vanished into a very real memory. A hard and pulsating cock exploded onto the face consisting of greyish hues missed with skin tone. That man . . . teen . . . had sung to him.

_Look up ahead, it's something beautiful_

The receptacle pumping blood through his veins expanded as if a door had somehow been opened. Hauntingly emotional syllables reverberated out into endless nature of the universe like a sonar and something pinged back.

 _Do you feel at a crossroad?_  
_You wanna leave but you don't know_  
_How to fly, how to let go, let go_

From seemingly nowhere the sweet sound of a tenor synchronised with Kurt’s naturally higher pitched range. Together they carried the lyrics with jaw dropping harmony.

 _When you finally fit in, you never wanted to change_  
_It's so much safer to stay the same_  
_But it's time to move on and the courage will come_  
_If you remember that you are free_

_Look up ahead, it's something beautiful_

_Do you feel at a crossroad?_  
_You wanna leave but you don't know_  
_How to fly, how to let go, let go_

The mixed tones vibrating from his throat drew Kurt further into the music. The air drawn from his lunges transformed itself into chords quivering through the larynx, for a second Kurt experienced something far beyond mere yearning.

 _Forsaking all security, embracing the uncertainty_  
_And falling into this_  
_Remember this before you leave, how simple that the truth can be_  
_You are human and you are free_

_Look up ahead, it's something beautiful_

_Do you feel at a crossroad?_  
_You wanna leave but you don't know_  
_How to fly, how to let go, let go_

The turmoil of his life faded away as the resonation of intertwined voices became something of sure beauty.

 _Do you feel at a crossroad?_  
_You wanna leave but you don't know_

For a split second Kurt felt he could remark the world.

_How to fly, how to let go, let go, let go_

The utterance of the last vowel resulted in complete noiselessness. The audience in the café and everyone stalled in the corridor beyond stood there with astonished looks on their face. The tear running down Kurt’s cheeks did not come from sadness but rather the reflective nature of what had just happened. It felt perfect and all so terrifying at the same time.

Seconds ticked and then the gaggle of tearful girls at next table began to clap. Soon everyone did.

“Holy hell,” Santana said with a raspy, choked voice. Falling back into her chair she it skid back across the floor. Catching it prevented her from toppling on to her ass.

“Kurt . . .” Artie’s voice overflowed emotion, “how?”

“It sounded like . . . two people singing.” Tina’s voice could barely be heard.

Caught up within softness spreading through his chest, Kurt’s sparkling cerulean eyes traveled from one friend to another. They stared back with a wide range of awe. The girls, including Santana, had wet streaked cheeks. Even Sam’s bright green orbs looked watery and puffy. While he could not honestly comprehend what they must be feeling Kurt’s emotions hovered on the edge of being shockingly calm. That voice remained no longer but a fond, uplifting memory did. Surreal best described it.

“Where . . . where did . . . you learn to do that?” Rachel stumbled on her words. Misty eyes gazed at Kurt in a combination of admiration and fear.

How could he answer when Kurt did not understand it himself?

Grinning from ear to ear Lauren purred, “Kurt, my god, you have talent.”

Santana breathlessly cooed. “Jesus . . . wow!”

“Wow?” Someone gruffly growl rose over the chatter. “For what, a fudge packing faggot?”

Fuck! The first questioning word oozed with bubbling darkness and smothered Kurt’s elations driving the light away. Each syllable of the following phrase etched deepening dread deep into the soul. A jackal hovered close by snapping nasty jaws and tearing at his clothes. After he had beaten him nearly senseless the brute flipped the boy over a gutter and started to grunt like a pig. Greedy fingers dug into the thin fabric covering the boy’s rear.

The chair beneath Kurt barely held still as his body suddenly collapse. Draining the lightness occupying his heart forced his chest to rise and fall in short, painful breaths. It felt as if something had just walked over his grave dragging huge clawed fingers down into the hard packed ground disrupting a peaceful slumber. The scrapping of a nail on bone pulsed as if some aspect of the living would had been lost forever. Out in the twinkling lights of deepest space a distance point of brilliance winked out.

“Hey,” Finn swirled about and yelled at Karofsky. “That’s enough.”

At the same time Rachel placed a hand on Kurt’s forearm. Others shifted about.

The fingers on his exposed skin caused Kurt to shiver followed by a sudden spark of shocking emotion.

The big, bullying teen laughed at Finn. “This is what you left us for, a bunch eggless termagants and butt fuckers.”

“Listen here, you fat asshole . . .” Santana jumped to her feet. Tina grabbed for her arm trying to hold back. Santana growled and then froze. Puckerman lingered in the crowd that had pulled away from the conflict. He tried to not be seen.

“The juicebox has spunk.” Karofsky looked to his right and left. Tim stood behind him and other the other side a fellow no one recognized.

Lauren and the table got in the way of Santana’s lunge. Rachel shifted as the force of the two other girls colliding threatened to get out of hand. Finn leapt to aid Rachel at the same moment Sam and Mike rose to their feet. Cups and plates shuddered dangerously over smooth flat surfaced. One of the ceramic mugs skidded off the edge splashing warm liquid across the floor.

Trying to maneuver even as Tina tried to aid pull him back, Artie yelled, “Stop picking on us.”

“You mind? I’m laughing.” Karofsky snarled.

Stepping forward Mike stood a couple of feet from the bully. “We’re serious.”

The big bully chuckled and defiantly scowled. In response Mike pushed into Karofsky with all his might sending large teen wheeling. Reaching out to grasp the large teen, Tim struggled to retain his own footing but managed.

Mike roared. “This is a warning.”

“Oh, y” Karofsky scoffed as he hauled him away from the hands that had steadies him.

Stepping away from Rachel, Finn challenged Karofsky “From now on, you’re gonna leave us alone.”

Chuckling, the bully glanced at his buds before the shot back at Finn. “Look, if you want to be a homo, that’s up to you and your toy Faircakes, but don’t rub it in my face.”

Finn pulled himself up taller. “We’re not asking you.”

Stepping closer, Mike growled. “Yeah, we’re done talking about this. Just back off, all right?”

“Oh, just fuck off.” Karofsky’s lashed out thrusting his hands into Mike’s chest. Falling backward he slammed into Finn sending the jock and Rachel to the floor. Tumbling away Mike smashed into Artie toppling the wheelchair over and spilling Artie onto the floor. Tina rushed to Artie’s aid as Mike rolled up to his knees ready to assist.

Suddenly Sam threw himself into Karofsky. Tim stepped out in front of big bully in an attempt to deflect the blow. Sam crashed into Tim sending the lackey stumbling back scattering the onlookers who had not pulled back or fled. Momentum pulled Sam no beyond Karofsky who turned to the right bringing a heavy fist up to catch Sam in the face. The blond teen when flying into a table of onlookers sending them scattering. Mike ran over to help.

“Enough!” Lauren roared. Her voice carrying over the chatter bringing a hush.

Karofsky glared at her and made a face. “Yeah right, Porkchops,”

“Well look who’s talking Mr. Jowls.” The large girl stepped menacing closer. Santana came forward behind her.

 

Karofsky made the sound of a pig squealing.

The guttural noise conjured up the combined terror of two different attacks within Kurt. Everything swirled in darkness, damned useless, seething, unnerving gloom that ate at the humanity. The aching in his chest became pain radiating down his left arm to his fingertips, up into the neck, back and hand all the way down into the legs. Yet, even at the moment of his desolation, Kurt somehow recognized the exchange of heated words overlapped some haunting reverie. Kurt blinked and his heart almost burst in his chest when something brushed his cheek leaving a subtle hint of puckered moisture.

Abruptly pushing his chair out of the way, Kurt whirled about to face the big bully. In that instant Kurt felt incoherent fingers slip into his left hand. His eyes rolled down and he saw nothing but felt everything. Everyone around him came to a stop.

Pulling himself up right, Karofsky giggled. “Going to run and cry FairyCakes,”

Rachel choked. “Kurt?”

“Listen here,” Kurt said to Karofsky is a civil tone. A puff of warm, scented breath tickling his chin gave him strength.

The bully laughed at Kurt’s friends. “Losers.”

Various voiced rose in opposition.

Holding still, Kurt yelled at Karofsky, “I’m talking to you!”

Karofsky spun about laughing, “Girls room’s next door, homo.”

“What’s your problem?”

“Excuse me?”

“What are you so scared of?”

“Besides you sneaking about trying to peek at my junk?”

“Oh yeah, that’s a straight guy’s nightmare, but not yours Fairycakes.”

Rage filled Karofsky’s and the fist, he nicknamed ‘Fury’, rose in threat.

“You’re one to talk.” Well aware he moved within striking distance, Kurt had no fear. “You’re the pervert who sneaks in dark corners. Well guess what, Hammerhawk? You’re sick!”

“That right?”

“Yeah, you going to try to kiss me again!”

Karofsky stepped forward pulling his fist back like a coils spring. “Don’t push me, Hummel.”

Lauren took a step away from the table and Finn blocked her path. The big girl shoved him and then slowed when she stood a yard from Kurt’s back.

Ignoring the commotion behind him, Kurt stated. “You gonna try to rape me, again?”

“Lies!” Karofsky screamed as he strode forward. He suddenly stopped.

Kurt stood his ground. In the corner of his eye he could see several adults squeezing through the gaping crowd. “Hitting me won’t change who I am. You can’t punch the gay out of me anymore than I can push the rapist out of you.”

The big bully growled. “Look here you little fucker. I’m . . .”

“What the hell’s going on here?!” Beiste roared bringing silence. The large framed officer stood there with his hands on her hips. Three other adults moved around to the left.

Youthful eyes flashed everywhere as the Limabean fell essentially silent. Tina continued to hover close to Artie while Mike helped Sam back to the group. Finn held Rachel close while Santana and Lauren eased their coiled stances. Karofsky, Tim and the other boy spun around and everyone else just stared. Over by the door Puckerman quietly slipped away.

Arms folded crossed over her chest, Beiste stepped between the combatting parties and forcefully demanded. “Well?”

A wisp of warm air and a tickle of what might have been hair brushed across Kurt’s ear confirming the return of that inner sense of peace. Closing his eyes instantly transported him into a bellowing cloud of hazel. Silhouetted forms passed within the haze as a shifting image formed. Two boys faced off. The taller teen grabbed the smaller and kissed him. Then a gust of wind altered everything forming misty stairs where a foggy person, Kurt recognized as himself, gawked. A big teen charged pressing a figure of swirling grey and mixed skin toned hues with a face topped with gelled down curls against a wire mesh. Kurt intervened and the large boy stormed off down the stairs. Looking forlorn, Kurt flopped down on the spectral stairs. The boy wearing a blue jacket with red trim sat down beside him.

The sound of a deep voice calling his name drew Kurt back into reality. The head moved ever so slightly to the right. Schuester, Jake and an unknown officer pushed through the crowd toward Beiste.

Squaring his shoulders, Kurt glanced Jake and then he squinted up to Karofsky. “We’ve been having spirited debate about the differences of what is right and wrong.”


	17. I Promise

Snow fell changing the misty world into something very different. The usual grey mass gave way to large fluffy white patches curling up over a dark surface. The roofs of buildings of a similar style come into view within the hazy white background as the clouds thinned. Blackened steel scaffolding rose up from one of the inconsistent structures like many ghostly fingers. Bright coloured light played within the puffs of trailing white giving the scene a hollow impression.

An ancient styled metal door opened outward on squeaky hinges. Warm air mixed with cold creating clouds of instantly chilled vapour. Someone stepped out onto the roof consisting of impermanent fog wearing black with white underneath. The figure of a young man stood pensively still for a couple of seconds. Spiraling grey gasses moved underneath translucent hues of skin playing within his body creating a sense of muted reality. Dark brows and lashes mixed with light misty strands moved with swirly intricacies of amber, hazel and implied green as soft orbs gazed up into the backlit sky.

The door closed behind him as he crossed his arm over his chest allowing his hands to grasp his biceps. A pluck of the strings followed by the pull of a bows across violins echoed through the obscurity of some place between a dream and reality. Hazel eyes watched the foggy winter as vibrant vocal chords resonated through the heavens.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K2xN1oUiGoQ)

_Never knew, I could feel like this_  
_I've never seen the sky before_  
_Want to vanish inside your kiss_

_Seasons may change_  
_Winter to spring_  
_But I love you_  
_Until the end of time_

_Come what may_  
_Come what may_  
_I will love you_  
_Until my dying day_

A second translucent apparition stepped out from the old façade of a stairwell. Perfection in a black tuxedo and white tie, he passed through the veil to take on greater substance than the form he slowly approached. Hands pushed into his pockets, he sauntered toward the mass of effervescent greyness and skin tones housed in a black jacket and slacks with sexy, graceful ease. Kurt’s soft, angelic voice rolled from the throat meshing with the stronger tenor creating affectionate harmony laced with the most profound sense of love.

_Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place_  
_Suddenly moves with such a perfect grace_  
_Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste_  
_It all revolves around you_

The teens circled and then they touched. Sentiment beyond meaning erupted when etherealness met tangible flesh. The right hand found Kurt’s left raising the tempo of an already pounding heart. At the same time their free hands lightly grasped each other’s waists. Slowly they waltzed until Kurt pulled away and strode off to the opposite side of the roof. Hazel watched.

_And there's no mountain too high, no river too wide_  
_Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side_  
_Storm clouds may gather_  
_And stars may collide_

Kurt caught the four words expressing them to the universe.

_But I love you_

Vibrations echoed out into the heavens where the foundation of a devoted life exposed the lovers to a bright white light. Shining down from above it bathed both in the blessed illumination of a greater existence.

_I love you_

The passion within his heart sprayed affection into the brilliance. Shimmering into the falling snow the world surrounding the two men became a matter of reference binding them to what had been. The rising of melodious voices brought the head strong courtesans back together again.

_Until the end of time_  
_Until the end of time_

Dazzling iridescent light found a mirror within bright eyes of blue and hazel. Emotion beyond measure passed between them creating a cascade of matching eyes leading back into the annals of time. Adoration transgressed the physical laws proving there could be more.

_Come what may_  
_Come what may_

_I will love you_

Peaceful, soothing fondness surrounded the two and their heads came to rest on each other’s shoulder. The joining transgressed the realm of the flesh taking them somewhere the living could only dream of. The transient nature of their mortal forms twisted together as the sparkling light finally engulfed them making two one. Corporeal conditions no longer mattered leaving the purist form of love.

_I will love you_

The interminable nature of their ascension encircled two lovers producing the most incredible sensations the body would never master. Conscious thought lingered in some meaningless place where emotion distilled a mortal life down to the basics of all creation. Pain, suffering, greed, guile and loathing no longer had meaning within the pointlessness of time. Only the wholesome essence of the ultimate truth remained permitting boundless sentiment to evaporate into a single aspiration—another chance.

The meanderings of comforting hazel fell away recreating a sense of genuineness. Engulfed in warmth the tiniest spark touched the mind bringing something new. The swaying of hips and the murmuring of gentle voices beguiled the psyche. Learning began anew even though something hovered on the edge of thought waiting. The key set into the lock jostled now and then but never clicked over.

A rude slap on the buttock followed by the howling of a sudden breath shattered the silence and it all started over. Warm arms surrounded a tiny, moist body creating a new sense of security. Love glistened in tired eyes and the first kiss made it all feel right. Still, something felt mislaid.

The body flexed and Kurt found himself affectionately stimulated. Lying in a place he knew all too well he felt transformed. Nerve endings tingled in the most delightful way making him fell as if somehow he hovered a portion of an inch above the mattress. Soft pressure touched his forehead from somewhere above. At the same time he a similar force shimmered out from his mind mirroring the eerie sensation leaving the impression he had been on a great journey. Emulated in the throbbing beneath his ribs the teen strived to catch his breath. The harmony of their tones echoed in his head causing goose bumps to rise on is arms and torso. Lying at semi-attention, the joy of Kurt’s young manhood hoisted itself against his shorts providing a tantalizing distraction.

Low hanging testicles shivered ever so slightly as an engorging head provokingly pushed up against the strap of his undergarments. A hand reached down under the sheet covering his lower body finding the wide elastic hugging his hips. The index finger tentatively caressed the pliable stiffness making him tingle all over. The dread Kurt endured evaporated leaving Kurt a broad smile and wrinkles under the eyes.

Weight, not of his own making, pressed against his crotch. Three, light, airy fingers traced a line across his gyrating love muscle creating waves of anticipation. The dab of liquid fell upon warm skin caused Kurt to shift ever so slightly. Those fingers abruptly became a full hand. The palm of Kurt’s left hand rose up off the fabric covering his pelvis as if something elevated it. Tickling, misty digits pulled tight forcing his fingers to curl.

Eyes bright and his heart pumping wildly in his chest, Kurt could not stop himself from grinning. The air flowing over his skin rolled up the cheek and up over the bridge of the nose leaving a subtle hint of coffee. Refusing to calculate the needs of logic, the teen enjoyed. Never in his life had be felt so happy and carefree.

The faint utterance of his name drifted by the right ear sent a shudder down to the bottom of his feet. Startled, Kurt’s head revolved against the pillow

“Kurt?” the deep, musical voice repeated in a more expressive tone.

“Wha . . .?” the word scarcely passed Kurt’s lips.

“It is I,” A deep, hardly audible voice danced next to Kurt’s ear.

The heart made a single hard thump in the center of Kurt’s chest causing a chill to ripple through his muscles. Blinking as he drew in a long, shuddering breath. Kurt’s eyes went this way and that.

“Be calm, dearest” the smoothing tenor said so quietly the sound almost got drowned out by human breathing.

Kurt almost choked. “Dearest?”

“My darling, speak with the music of your heart.”

“What?”

“Your heart speaks faster than you mouth. Think what you want to say and I will hear.”

“You’re real?”

“Yes and it’s been too long.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

The feeling of fingers wrapped in Kurt’s left hand prevented he limb from stirring. Instead his right hand landed on his cheek. Kurt noticed the two tiny lights on his bracelet madly blinking. “I must be mad.”

The light touch of very real fingers brushed the back of Kurt’s hand pressed against his face. More tangible than the events of the night of passionate excitement, the cubicle around Kurt became a room with wood paneling. Wearing an ancient sweater and tie of blue and red, Kurt sat in a dining room chair. Twinkling bobbles, clue, tweezers and a silver box rested on the table in front of him. A boy with slicked down hair with the most heavenly amber-brown eyes sat facing Kurt. The scent of body lotion and breath mints drifted on the mist.

In that room, Kurt’s face sort of scrunched up as he sat back. “Why did you pick me to sing that song with?”

A handsome but not fully formed face of grey mists mixed with substantially more skin tones, looked to the right. Amber-brown eyes closed. “Kurt, there is a moment . . .”

Cerulean eyes shifted ever so slightly as Kurt observed the hand pushed lightly upon his.

Mists shifted and those wonderful eyes opened and gazed directly at Kurt. “. . . when you say to yourself, ‘Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you forever.’”

Swirling mists shaping the form of a boy shifted forward on a chair. A vaporous right hand coated in skin tones pressed down upon Kurt’s fingers. “Watching you do Blackbird this week . . . that was a moment for me. About you. You moved me, Kurt. And this duet would just be an excuse to spend more time with you.”

Sprays of miasma rose up in front of Kurt. Pinks and flesh tones pressed into Kurt’s lips. Seconds felt like hours before one of Kurt’s hands came up to touch an unreliable cheek. A quivering puff of air passed over moist lips when Kurt realized he touched something offering tactile resistance. The heart rose up into his throat and his he moved ever so slightly. Passionately Kurt pushed into those lips seeking everything possible. A rowdy night of sex came to mind but then this meant far more. In two realities something very profound morphed out of a clumsy beginning to cement itself in true, unending passion.

A tongue racked against his teeth and dug into his mouth causing a spike to drive into Kurt’s heart. Suddenly a hand fell away hitting the mattress. In that other place it struck wood. Breathlessly Kurt pulled back for a brief moment to draw in a deep breath. Blue locked on hazel and then the boy with those adorable eyes pulled away with an innocent smirk.

Grey mixed with hues of skin sat back. His head turned back and he said, “We should-we should practice.”

Euphorically, Kurt said, “I thought we were.”

The two kissed again. Breathlessly Kurt pushed himself into the embrace allowing weeks of pent up hunger to erupt with careless abandon. Hands folded around each other pulling starving bodies close. The need to breath caused them to part. For the briefest instant their eyes met then those phantasmal lips snuck again. Waves of deep longing rolled through Kurt leaving him with an overpowering need to express affection. Eyes fluttering, sentiment welled up deep down in Kurt’s heart.

Gasping for breath they plunged on and then they slowly, even innocently, draw away from each other. Sprouting tents beneath their pants, charming hazel and resolute cerulean reveled in embarrassed happiness. A sound interrupted and both teens suddenly looked to the door where a teacher stood there with an interesting look on her face. Air stalled in Kurt’s throat.

The image fading away and Kurt found himself gazing up at the hard protective cover of his sleeping cubicle. Flipped up and locked in place it acted as the interface for the computer and entertainment systems. The curving reflection of himself stared back and for the first time he noted the indent in the mattress and blanket beside him. Within the refracting surface he saw the contours of a smiling face gazing at him. A faint hint of teenage five o’clock shadow etched delicious shades along his chin and up his cheeks. That impish grin curled up toward laugh lines on the edge of the eyes. Rimmed with moisture, those eyes, god they looked so delightful enchanting, captivated. Hazel, honey, amber and suggestive flashes of green glowed like so many lights whirling in a heavenly pool. The heart exploded with yearning he had never felt before.

That deep tones voice whispered in his left ear. “Easy, my love.”

Love! Love? The simple word shivered deep into the bowels of Kurt physical being. The teen froze as a haggard wheeze rushed into his lunges. When it escaped, the colour drained from his face. The realism of current the state of affairs numbed him even though the hammering in his chest spoke of fact. Logic grasped for straws floating away into thinning swirls of fog leaving the consciousness blind.

Skin touching skin pushing Kurt’s head down into the pillow. Swallowing dry the boy’s mouth hung open. Two, very real teenagers lay side by side at the river. Hot sun beat down upon them from a bright blue sky coloured by a wispy clouds. Dreamy eyes under dark eyebrows gazed adorably at Kurt. The shirtless teen with wisps of dark fuzz on his chest leaned his head against his palm while his elbow pressed down into the blanket covering dry grass. The endless days of their first summer slowly edged toward an end and Kurt finally made his desires known. The teen with gelled down curls smiled and said he would think of it.

A shift and white pillar rose up to the roof close to a table. The same teens sat there hand in hand over coffee. One wore a uniform the other casual attire. Suddenly Kurt gasped as if a long forgotten memory slapped him in the face. “Oh . . . my . . . god?”

“You remember?”

“Wha . . . oh . . . Is it really . . .?”

“Yes.”

“You . . . we . . . died.”

“Death is not permanent, my love.”

Coalescing haze created a morphing vision of two men dressed as if they had stepped from a Jane Austin novel stood on a small balcony. Naked to the waist, a man with a pointed nose stood behind his shorter lover with coils of thick waving hair. Arms wrapped around one another they stared out at a green vista through driving rain. High trees blotted the distant fields. Behind them the covers of a large bed hung there in utter disarray.

Unreal sentiment rose in Kurt’s chest. “Us.”

“And others.”

“We sang at the moment of . . .”

“Yes.”

“I . . . missed you.”

“I lingered because I had to learn.”

“Learn?”

The light breeze of hesitant breath rolled across Kurt’s soft lips. The other boy said, “The secret I denied myself.”

“Secret?” Uttering the caused agonizing pain to pass through Kurt’s body.

Something real but very invisible brushed a cheek. “Careful, love.”

Shocked by the discomfort, Kurt gasped. “But . . .”

“I can’t. It’s too hard to keep this going.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have felt your pain and helped as best they would allow. It’s not easy on them.”

“Them?”

“Wrap yourself in hazel and be patient.”

“For what?”

“It will not be long now, my love. I promise.” The heavy sense of hazel faded leaving a light, lingering warmth.

A heart filled wail escaped Kurt’s lips. “Blaine?!”


	18. Realization

Blaine? Wow! Alive? How? Part of him still did not believe it as the conscious mind tried its best to come up with excuses. Thought and emotion squabbled in a very different way than before. It’s not as if he did not believe it came down to how he believed. Keeping his sanity required a leap of faith that took a long few hours to wrap his head around. Connecting his implant to the computer system Kurt downloaded the library information on the subjects of the afterlife. Knowing he needed time for the brain to filter it, Kurt felt impatient. Forcing himself to collate the information a few things stuck. One aspect spoke of life everlasting and then the concept to reincarnation. Both seemed alien to Kurt, however, considering what he had been told, reincarnation seemed to make sense in an abstract manner. 

This new knowledge questioned everything Kurt had believed in since childhood. Burt believed in religion to a point and his mom did not have a need for it. After all it did not help fill an empty pantry. Their neighbours flourished within god’s realm but Kurt saw nothing in it but control. The kids he played with believed but Kurt wanted proof. Sexy, soothing tones became his proof. They echoed deep into his soul lighting something Kurt had never thought possible. Then that touch. It left him feeling elated and content. 

This simple awareness left Kurt feeling awestruck. Long after lights out he lay there thinking with on hand cupped over his balls gently tickling. Fleeting moments of certainty lived within the occasional twitch. He had not intended to play with himself but for some reason it kept him from flying off the handle. Hot and cold, his emotions and thoughts went this way and that. At one time he had thought the appearance of hazel as some flighty fantasy but now he thought he comprehended. Memories from a time and place Kurt had always loved ended up in an interesting theory—periods in history one had an affinity for had a place in the reality of one’s life. Knowing something by instinct when the individual had been provided no instruction in the matter or walking down a street in a city you had never been in before and knowing the neighbourhood in some vague way fit the bill. Understanding the history of a region or event centuries before birth spoke of something greater than the corporal form. The heart pounded in his chest wailing at the significance. 

When things looked to have reached a boiling point, that warm hazel blanket wrapped itself about Kurt. Calming hues brought sleep filled with wonderful, light hearted dreams. 

The alarm woke him with a start. Panic struck for a few moments and then a hazel curtain remained bringing calm. Smiling, Kurt could not believe how alive he felt on only three hours sleep. Dancing around his cubicle, Kurt prances into the washroom for his morning shower. Gushing warm water splashed down onto his nakedness causing the teen to lazily smile. The mind paused and he felt the comfort of a memory. Blaine filled Kurt’s thoughts and heart.

Going through his morning ritual Kurt felt so light and happy he could burst. Softly singing to himself the bounce in his step revealed his great mood. Even the taunts from the upper level did not deter him. Nothing would ruin this day. The strength of that brownish hue held his hand through the most trying moment since waking. Facing down David Karofsky formed the crumbs of Kurt’s cake. Succulent hazel became the sweet filling between the layers and then it had all be topped off with thick, creamy icing. 

Walking amongst the mass of teens going about their morning business Kurt passed several senior crew members. To his surprise the officers left him alone and that had him worried. He half expected someone to wake him from a sound wonderful sleep to drag him off to isolation again. The bracelet had been blinking like a mad man all the time he and Blaine had been speaking. Wacky Sue gave him the usual shrill glare when their paths crossed. Walking on Kurt laughed. Usually he tried to avoid her but this morning he did not care.

Breakfast went on without issue. The room seemed empty because many of the teens went to the new eateries. Kurt lined up at the counter to get the meal and surprisingly he enjoyed the boring fair. Some of the teens sitting about the room said hello and Kurt politely nodded back. Today he wanted to be alone with his thoughts and emotions. Part of him played with the pleasing ideas while that side wondered how this Blaine would keep his promise. 

Pushing his fruit around in the bowl before him, Kurt lost himself in his thoughts. A fussy haired teen held his hand as they walked down the street. Stone construction set the building in an era Kurt knew only from history. People walked all about as the couple made their way around the corner. The ground floor store overflowed with colourful flowers. The boys stopped and looked at the beautiful offerings. Soon they held a bundle of white blooms with sprigs of green between them. Chatting and laughing they made their way home where they placed the flowers in a place of honour near the front door. The sweet ritual began when they started living together.

Paying little attention to his surroundings, Kurt barely noticed the shadow descend upon him as he shoveled the last of fruit into his mouth. The agricultural landers and the trees at each junction allowed for a variety of fruits though most had been canned. The long trip through the stars had provided abundant crops and few mouths to consume them. Storeroom burst with all sorts of preserved or processed foods. Like the passengers, most of the animals had been placed in suspended animation but the vast array of vegetation provided a very different problem. Lowering the temperature had placed some of the plants into hibernation. 

The outline produced by the lack of light crossing the table caused him to grin. Kurt’s heart thumped in his chest spreading loving warmth everywhere. “Blaine?”

“Blaine?” a girl responded.

Almost dropping his spoon Kurt spun around. Blinking he stared up at a slender girl with long blond hair. Embarrassed he swallowed. “Brittany?”

The blond stood there it an odd look on her face. Her head move to the right, paused and then back to the center again. “Who’s Blaine?”

Kurt froze and his brow furrowed. Hot emotion spread through his chest causing his groin to tingle. Looking down and away, Kurt grinned. Oh god, what could he say? Turning his wrist over, he looked at the steady lights on the other side of the bracelet. 

“Santana told me about that thing.” Brittany sat beside Kurt and looked at it. “You don’t look sick.”

“I’m not sick Brit.” Kurt gently responded. Hopefully the unintended distraction would work.

“That’s good. We need you.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t let Rachel intimidate you into the last song.”

“Oh, that?”

“She’s nice enough but at times she reminds me of a something called an aardvark.”

Kurt gave Brittany a strange look.

The girl went on unaffected by the gaze. “Yeah, cute and cuddly but with a big nose.”

Rachel would be incensed. Placing recyclable bowl and fork on the reusable tray Kurt looked up at Brittany. “Walk with me to class.”

Brittany playfully smiled. “Ensign Doosenbury won’t be happy if we’re late.”

“Let’s get going.” Kurt stood and picked up the tray. 

Brittany skipped ahead. “She marked me down last time because I used my crayons to answer the questions.”

“Brittany, we use computers?”

“Oh?”

“Brit, try speaking your answer next time.”

“Oh, I never thought of that.”

Putting the tray in the rack by the door, Kurt laughed. Wrapping his arm about the Brittany he drew her into a hug. 

Brittany pushed her hip into Kurt. “You’re such a sweet puppy.”

Staring at her with large, round eyes, Kurt panted. He loved Brittany in a brotherly way. Her quirkiness always brightened the worst day. She came up with the stupidest comments that always had some element of fact to them. None of her friends understood how she did it but she ended up being amazingly gifted in a field Kurt tolerated at best. 

“Awww.” Brittany pulled Kurt into the corridor. Several teens walked by paying them no attention. “You so cute.”

Pink rose in Kurt’s porcelain cheeks and he closed his eyes. He had to smile when hazel greeted him. His heart pulsed and he bouncing on his toes. All those little things he had seen over the past few months fell into place. Fragments of a ‘pinch me moment’ echoed within his mind. He wished he had the time to sort it all but life went on. He had things to do and the feelings of those hands on him and five o’clock shadow buoyed him.

Patting Kurt on the head, Brittany pulled him along. “My, you’re giddy today.”

“Yes, I believe I am.”

“You must have slept well.”

“No, not at all.”

“Bad dreams?”

“No, fun ones,” Kurt impishly replied. 

The girl’s face scrunched up. “Ewwww, I did not need to know that.”

“Not that kind of dream,” Kurt blurt out before he could even think. He suddenly blushed.

Shaking her head, Brittany said, “Guys talk about them all the time. They’re gross.”

Rolling his eyes, Kurt changed the subject. “How goes the advanced mathematics?”

“Aggravating.” Brittany made a face. “We got into the Galois theory. You know, given a polynomial, it may be that some of the roots are connected by various algebraic equations. For example, it may be that for two of the roots, say A and B, that A2 + 5B3 = 7. The central idea of the theory is to consider those permutations of the roots having the property that any algebraic equation satisfied by the roots is still satisfied after the roots have been permuted. An important provision is that we restrict ourselves to algebraic equations whose coefficients are rational numbers.”

Kurt blinked. He had an ‘oh my god’ look on his face. 

Brittany rambled on. “If we exchange A and B, we obtain another true statement. For example, the equation A + B = 4 becomes simply B + A = 4. Furthermore, it is true, but far less obvious, that this holds for every possible algebraic equation with rational coefficients relating the A and B values above. To prove this requires the theory of symmetric polynomials. The Galois group of the polynomial x2 − 4x + 1 consists of two permutations: the identity permutation which leaves A and B untouched, and the transposition permutation which exchanges A and B. It is a cyclic group of order two, and therefore isomorphic to Z2Z.”

“Ummm . . . it sound fascinating Brittany.” Kurt gave her a strange look as they walked around the corner into a wider corridor housing the stairs that would take them to their first class. 

A hand went up to Brittany’s brow. “They hooked me up to these things and measure my head.”

“I know what that is like.” Kurt moaned. A night in isolation came back to mind. 

Brittany gave him a look. “They won’t let me colour.”

“Just do it.”

“Do what?”

“Stuff some of those things you call crayons down your blouse.”

Brittany stopped and turned to Kurt. “You’re not that dull after all.”

Kurt lightly shook his head. “Gee, thanks, I think?” 

Bumping her shoulder into Kurt’s Brittany smiled. “Santana told me you tore up Karofsky’s pant legs.”

A funny look passed over Kurt’s face and then he smirked. “Isn’t that what puppies do, chew on things.”

Brittany pushed her body into Kurt again. “So who’s this Blaine?”

Kurt stumbled on his footsteps but caught himself on the wall. The bag swaying on hip swung around in front of him adding to his momentum. The mind fumbled his thoughts. “I was reading an old book . . . ah . . . Blaine’s a character in it.”

“Oh?” Brittany did not even seem to notice the awkwardness.

“Yeah, it a story about a boy who finds his way in life.”

“Was he indentured?” 

“It’s set in the early twenty first century. The boy is in school and is finding himself.”

“A puppy story,”

“Arrf arrf.”

Brittany looked as if she suddenly realized something. “You writing a book Kurt?”

The very thought sent Kurt for a loop. Stopping in his tracks for a fleeting moment he felt terror struck and then he started to laugh. Words from babes. Why did not he think of it? It made for the perfect cover story. 

“I’d read it?” Brittany cocked he head to one side. Her hair tumbled down from her shoulders across her chest.

“When I am done I will send you a copy.”

“I hate downloading it cluttered the mind. They make me do it all the time. It messed the hair.”

“Hmmm . . . I guess so, when I’m done.” 

Bobbing her head back and forth, Brittany smiled that disarming smile of hers. “You like old things don’t you.”

Kurt smiled. “Yeah.”

“I have a hairbrush passed down from my grandmother with a few greats in front of it. It does not really work well. Many of the bristles are gone but it’s pretty. Can you believe it her name was Brittany.”

“Really?” Kurt swallowed hard. 

“Yup.” Brittany looked right at Kurt. “You know I look like her.”

Blue eyes slid sideways as his brow furrowed. Shaking his head, Kurt put it aside to one of Brittany’s strange moments. Then a thought caught in his mind causing a single eyebrow to go up and then Kurt shuddered. His heart he warmed to the idea he and Blaine had lived and loved before but could it be true for other people? The thought unsettled Kurt stretching his acceptance of reality but then he had sex with someone who had not really been there. 

“I have some pictures from that time?” Brittany abruptly added. “I was pretty back then.”

“Brittany, I am sure you were not alive back then.” Kurt commented. The idea she broached did not settled well. 

“I dream of about it all the time. It feels so real.”

“We all dream Brittany.”

“I know but its fun to go there. It seems so free.”

“Dreams can be fluff and dreams can be real.”

“Yeah. The ones with the fluffy stuff floating in the air are always fun. I see unicorns.”

Something inside Kurt pinged and then hazel rolled in like spreading fog. The transparent mists looked like rows of metal cabinets stacked two high along a wall. A structural pillar rose up between two banks where a piece of large paper had been plastered to the surface. An aerated form Kurt recognized as himself stopped to look. His face fell. The poster adhered to the wall had an image of his face with a unicorn horn rise up out of his forehead.

For a second did not know what to think but then the presence of hazel reminded him of a surprisingly emotional conversation. The chest tightened and he felt faint. Blaine had promised. Blaine said he would not be long. He had spoken of a secret. Could this be it? 

“Kurt?” Ensign Doosenbury inquired. “Can I have your answer?”

Squinting, Kurt drew in a deep breath. Where had the time gone? He did not even remember walking into class. 

“Mr. Hummel?” the ensign stood in the center of the semi-circular room staring at him. 

“Ah, there is absolute location and relative location.” Kurt stammered on his reply. Geography seemed to be the furthest thing on his mind. He considered metaphysics and theology. 

The rest of the day followed a similar pattern. Regardless of how he tried, Kurt had trouble keeping his thoughts in one place. Every time he closed his eyes hazel returned along with that sense of calm. It helped keep him together as the hours rolled on. He went looking for Jake at lunch but did not find him. The man’s communications device had been shut down. It worried Kurt when he could not get hold of Jake but then it happened from time to time. The construction of some areas of the ship blocked signals.

Leaving his last class Kurt felt relieved his elated feelings had survived. With a couple of hours to kill before practice, dinner and then his evening work schedule he light footed it along the hall. He liked working the evenings because it got him out of most of the hype as hundreds of teens finding things to keep themselves busy. Sam also worked evenings. Sometimes they would meet up in agriculture lander nine when something needed to be fixed. Sam loved working there. In the old days they would have called him a country boy. 

Two seventeen Greenwich Meantime and the Limabean looked pretty empty. The timing for classes had been staggered for accommodate work shifts. Each teen still had to put in four hours a day and with the Captain’s Freedom, could switch around in the jobs. It provided flexibility and increased learning opportunities. 

Bouncing on the ball of his feet Kurt headed for the counter and then stopped. A voice off to the side caught his attention as a shiver ran up his back. Looking that way, Kurt saw something unexpected—Sam, Lauren and Puckerman. They sat together sipping on hot drinks and talking. Slowly approaching from behind a wide pillar, Kurt slowed. Their words seemed heated. 

“. . . it doesn’t matter,” Puckerman defended himself.

“Yes it does, Noah,” Lauren countered. She sounded upset. 

Puckerman defended himself. “I’m telling you things are going to get out of hand.”

“Noah, we can help.” Sam leaned back and sipped his drink. 

Lauren pointed a finger at Puckerman. “Tell us it’s not true?”

They had not noticed Kurt yet. Part of the bullied teen wanted nothing to do with this but hazel hues infused his backbone as it had the day before. Letting out a silent breath, Kurt stepped out and asked, “What’s true?”

Noah Puckerman paled. “Kurt?”

“Puckerman?” Kurt silently questioned.

“You want to join us?” Sam asked with a small smile.

Eyes passing over everyone, Kurt’s face revealed nothing. “Am I interrupting?”

Puckerman bluntly injected. “Yes.”

“No,” Lauren said at exactly the same time. 

“Which one is it?” Kurt stood there with his hands on his hips.

Pushing a chair out with his foot Sam patted it. “Join us.”

“Let me go get something to drink.” Kurt glanced toward the short line up at the counter.

Quickly standing Sam questioned, “The usual?”

“Sam?” Kurt looked put out.

“Just sit. You need to hear this.” Sam grinned at his friend and strode off.

Watching Sam trot away, Kurt pulled his lips to one side and then looked to Lauren. “Okay, what’s going on?” 

“Kurt, please sit.” Lauren smiled a crooked, almost concerned smile.

Settling into the chair that had been pushed out for him, Kurt studied Lauren and then glanced at Puckerman. Something seemed out of place. The teen with the bad hair kept glancing at the large girl and each time he did his skin flushed ever so slightly. 

“I think I should be going,” Puckerman looked nervous. 

Shaking his head, Lauren gave him Puckerman a stern gaze. “You stay put.”

Pushing his mouth out as if playing tough, the former . . . or present . . . bully’s eyes twinkled. 

Kurt found the manner in which Puckerman reacted amusing and then he tried to hide his grin.  
Having studied Rachel and Finn he recognized that look. Puckerman liked Lauren and the sentiment appeared to be returned. The idea of these two doing it boggled the mind. Never in his life would he have considered player like Noah falling for someone like Lauren. Yes, Kurt liked her and, yes, she had a cuteness about her, but really? 

Talk about calling the kettle black. Dishing these two when Kurt had an intimate relationship with an ethereal person. A month ago, a week ago, Kurt would never have entertained the thought. Now his eyes lay open to a completely different reality and he could see it between the two, unlikely lovers. Warm spread though his chest and then he suddenly smiled. 

“What’s so funny?” Lauren asked.

Rolling his head down he fought to control the wonderful feeling racing through his body. “You two are so cute.”

Trying to appear threatening the blush rising in Puckerman’s face gave it all away. Hard eyes stared at Kurt and then he sighed. Grinning he shook his head and then glanced at the girl beside him. 

Lauren chuckled and then winked at Noah.

Kurt found himself appreciating the moment. Honestly he had never seen Puckerman like this before. Being embarrassed revealed an almost human side to the bully but did that excuse all the crap? The fight in the music room, being chased down hall, locked in storerooms and thrown in dumpsters remained close to the surface. This teen had tormented every person he now sang with. Still, Kurt had to admit Puckerman tried to fit in but seeing him on the tram with Tim caused Kurt nothing but a headache. Tim had led the attack after the assembly.

A flicker of hazel within open eyes interrupted Kurt’s thinking. A pleasant distraction, Kurt could think of nothing but Blaine. He had said wrap himself in hazel and it fell about him like a nice warm blanket. Dark thoughts had no place in his world today. He just wanted to enjoy the fond sensations filling his heart. The circumstances surrounding Blaine still seemed surreal. Throughout the day doubt crept into his meandering mind but then that lovely hue would bring balance. 

“There you are,” a female said from behind.

The voice interrupted Kurt’s thoughts in a similar manner it has shortly after he had waken from two hundred years of sleep. Looking back over his shoulder, Kurt noticed Finn standing at the counter chatting the Sam. 

Lauren smiled and said, “Good, you got my message.”

Kurt turned the other way to see Rachel entering in the edge of his vision. At the same time he noted the deflated look on Puckerman’s face. He had not expected this.

Coming up behind Kurt, Rachel wrapped her arms about the boy and hugged him. She asked, “How are you feeling today, giant slayer?”

Kurt’s brow furrowed. “Giant slayer.”

“Yeah, like the old story, Kurt and the Karofskystalk.” Rachel pulled a chair over from an adjacent table and then a second for Finn.

“Rachel, that was awful.” Kurt snickered even though it made him feel uncomfortable. 

“That’s what we have to talk about.” Lauren glanced at Puckerman who shrunk back.

“Oh?” Rachel looked concerned. Her eyes suddenly darted to the counter.

“Let’s wait for Sam and Finn.” Lauren sipped on her fake coffee. “They will want to hear this as well.”

“Wait, how did you know I would be coming here?” Kurt suddenly inquired. He gave Lauren a usually offbeat look.

The big girl shook her head. “You always come here before practice.”

Kurt muttered. “I’m that predictable?”

“Yes.” Rachel and Lauren said at the same time. 

Kurt frowned. “I guess I should shake that up a bit.”

“I would suggest you do,” Puckerman abruptly stated. His hard face softened. 

“What does that mean?” Finn asked as he stepped up to the group with Sam at his side. He had two drinks. Sam also had two and a bag of chewy things.

A puff of air escaped Puckerman’s throat. He looked to Lauren.

“Just as you told me,” Lauren softly said to Noah.

“I guess I should sit for this one,” Sam commented as he handed a tall mug to Kurt. As he sat, the blond placed a bag of cookies on the table top. “Help yourself.”

Finn dug in before Sam could even reach. Kurt regarded the jock for a moment. Over the passage of weeks Finn had grown on Kurt. Like Sam, for a brief moment he thought amorous thoughts but then the presence of hazel kept pulling at him. Now that he, sort of understood, Kurt knew nothing would have happened. Charming, almost innocent Sam had a huge crush on Mercedes and Rachel would never share. 

“They’re going to introduce money,” Sam injected from out of left field.

“What?” Rachel blinked. 

“Yeah, we’re going to get paid for our work and will need to spend the money in places like this.” Sam broke a chuck off his cookie and popped it in his mouth.

“Why?” Finn questioned.

“What does this have to do with anything?” Kurt looked flustered. “I thought Puckerman had something to tell us.”

Sitting next to Rachel and beside Kurt, Finn gave his old cohort in crime a look. “I saw you here last night, Puck. You didn’t get involved.”

Digging out a cookie, Puckerman shoved the whole thing in his mouth and the swallowed with barely a chew. His eyes studied everyone and paused on Lauren. “Okay, we were headed here when we found the door flooded with people. We heard singing and Karofsky muttered a word I am not going to repeat.”

“Fairycakes?” The word no longer bothered Kurt. It had caught on and everyone who picked on him used it. Big deal.

Puckerman hesitated. “Faggot with a colourful expletive in front and behind.”

“Oh?” That one still hurt. Kurt made a face.

Finn sipped his drink. “Go on, Puck.”

“Right.” Puckerman also sipped his drink and then he looked to his right. “Karofsky is pissed at you Kurt.”

Pulling the mug from his lips Kurt countered. “What else is new?” 

“No, he wants to hurt you Kurt.” Puckerman paused. “I mean as in kill you.”

“What?” Finn choked on the coffee.

“He was incensed last night. He ranted about permanently shutting you up.” Puckerman went on.

Sitting forward, Kurt bravely said, “I guess he did not like facing the truth.”

“Did he really try to . . .” Rachel could not utter the word that should follow.

Hazel returned the moment Kurt closed his eyes. Caressing through horrible memories it took the stink away. “Rape, yes. Karofsky kissed me one day in an orchard shed. I ran but he kept bugging me. I told him to leave me alone. Well that’s when . . .”

“Kurt, please don’t?” Rachel pleaded. She looked pale. 

Glancing up at the ceiling, Kurt knew the reason behind Rachel’s reaction without being told. The farm might have been run by monks, but that did not prevent people from being attacked. Everyone on the Arc carried some sort of violent scar. 

“Kurt, I’m not joking. He really wants to do you harm.” Puckerman downed the remainder of his drink. “Charles and I tried to get him to calm down. Karofsky hit Charles breaking not only his nose but his cheek as well. The captain got involved. Karofsky had been locked up but he will not be in there forever.”

“So why did you not stand up to Karofsky last night when Kurt did.” Sam questioned. He nibbled on his second cookie.

Puckerman’s eyes spun toward Lauren who nodded. “I’ve been trying to play both sides. I love singing but . . . being with Karofsky has perks.”

“Such as?” Kurt said straight up. 

Swallowing, Puckerman sheepishly glanced at Lauren. “Girls for one.” 

Rachel gagged.

“Karofsky is bedding at least a dozen. He may be a father soon.” Puckerman commented.

Kurt started to howl. “That asshole a father?”

“It can happen to you too Kurt.” Puckerman shot back.

The smiled vanished from Kurt’s face. His nose curled up. “Sorry Lauren and Rachel, but I don’t like lady parts.”

“That is well known, but you’ve a duty Kurt.” Puckerman shot back. He seemed a bit upset Kurt refused to do his manly bit.

Kurt looked about with the unorthodox look on his face. No, he would not. His heart belonged to someone he met in a world somewhere between dreams and reality. Acknowledging what happened the night before, while perplexing, told him he could not be with anyone else. His heart spoke of everlasting and timeless love. As the hours wore on he came to trust his emotions more and more. 

Sam defended the position, “Seriously, Kurt, Noah’s right.” 

“Are you going to cheat on Mercedes, Sam,” Kurt countered.

The pouty blond boy blinked and then sat back deeply embarrassed. 

Swallowing, Kurt looked to Rachel and Finn before he turned to face his first real friend. “Sorry, Sam, my big mouth.”

“No, you’re right Kurt. I wouldn’t want to cheat on Mercedes but then we are not really an item. However, like Finn or any of us, we may not have any chose.” Sam looked uncomfortable.

“He wouldn’t dare,” Rachel voice became shrill. She glared at Finn. 

Poor Finn, Rachel’s eyes bore into him in the most unforgiving manner. Regardless of their feelings, Sam had it right. The thought sent aching pain through Kurt’s chest. The idea turned his stomach. He may have no choice, but if he had to it would not be done in person. 

“Let’s stop talking about who is doing who,” Lauren’s voice had an edge to it. “Noah, how long is Karofsky going to be locked up?”

Puckerman shrugged. “We all got hauled in. Commander Lester says it’s up to the captain and he has become a bit of a hard ass since you got beat up Kurt.”

Finn nodded. “There have been a few fights.”

“The old ways die hard.” Lauren made a face and then sighed.

Looking upset, Rachel suggested, “I do not want to think of this just now. Why don’t we go to the music room? We have a concert to get ready for. Besides I have to help Kurt pick my last piece.”


	19. Invitational

Engulfed in grey and hazel, three rows of boys in blue blazers with red piping stood silently waiting. Then the a cappella background chords began and someone Kurt knew to be himself closed his eyes and took a long breath. Stepping down from the riser, a mist filled doppelganger began to sing just as the blaring light almost blinded him. A phrase or two later another boy joined him as he stepped into the brightness. Then and now, ripples rose on his skin and the heart filled with such feeling it would burst. Cloaked in shifting clouds of grey, hazel and soft skin tones, this patchy boy looked deeply into the soul as he poured all his love into song. The music of reality and of haze differed but the meaning remained the same—two lovers found themselves once again.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k9FKXD0cehg Again, the song is right but the voice isn’t. Artist Jeff Hamlin)

_I never thought I'd find someone like you_   
_Though in my every fantasy I saw you everyday_   
_I thought there was no way - to make my dream come true_

_I always thought that I would be alone_   
_Afraid to dream that anyone was ever gonna see_   
_The love inside of me - but how could I have known_

_A trick of fate would bring us together_   
_A trick of fate would alter our lives_   
_We had to wait it seemed like forever_   
_But never say never to a trick of fate_

_What were the chances I'd be here with you_   
_That after all the lonely years of searching everywhere_   
_I'd turn and you'd be there - from clear out of the blue_

_Our lives are in the hands of destiny_   
_And though we try to take control_   
_That's not the way it goes - a higher power knows_   
_How it's supposed to be_

_A trick of fate brought us together_  
_A trick of fate altered our lives_  
 _We had to wait it seemed like forever_  
 _But never say never to a trick of fate_

_And now, something has begun - something very new_   
_And suddenly the future's looking bright_   
_Somehow when two hearts beat as one, fairy tales come true_   
_And anything seems possible tonight_

_A trick of fate brought us together_   
_A trick of fate altered our lives_   
_We had to wait it seemed like forever_   
_But never say never to a trick of fate_

_It just goes to show_   
_That you never know_   
_Where love's gonna grow_   
_\- It's a trick of fate_

The music came from an early twenty first century movie. Unfortunately the sound track included instrumentation only forcing Kurt to write the lines. On stage, something struck Kurt when he closed his eyes prior to starting—he saw words and hazel notes. The moment he opened his mouth, the lyrics of his manufacture morphed into the centuries old original words creating an amazing high. Now that it dwindled the comfort in his heart settling from crescendos into a nice easy hum. The moment the first words passed his lips he felt the joining of two souls. Electrified tingles rode the channels of his nervous system raising goosebumps and exhilarating feelings. The peacefulness of his groin edged away as the monster stirred and then became content with engorged flaccidness.

For a few seconds Kurt imagined he could rise up and reshape his universe. Then he felt it and all his fears fell away along with the urge to do something he could not really explain. He glanced to his left where reality revealed nothing but the heart spoke volumes. In the flighty world of grey and hazel vapours he saw familiar curls over dark brows.

Kurt’s heart soared and then the rich depths of baritone tones joined with his. Harmonizing and complementing one another, the two voices played off of one another as they had in the Limabean. No real thought pushed the words from Kurt’s mouth. It just happened. Kurt’s voice rang from high to low as Blaine’s ethereal tones swelled along with as softness that did not over power. Playing off one another the incredible combination captured the audience.

A familiar touch of inconsistent flesh against his spoke of Blaine. An invisible paramour moved with Kurt resulting in a visibly one sided dance. The tones of the throat overflowed with emotion and the renewal. Two lost souls moved closer to one another creating a longing only the pressing of flesh and the throbbing insides chests would satisfy.

Kurt felt happily sated when Blaine’s voice fell away leaving him the last couple of lines. When this last happened Kurt felt a sense of loss. This time he felt joy and the hint of light moisture pressed against his cheek. Fingers no one else could see squeezed his left hand tightly. Uncontrollably, Kurt beamed out at the audience but in his chest it had all been for Blaine.

Mists rolled across a stage that looked very different than actuality. In one, a misty boy with gelled down hair beamed while holding both hands together extended from his chest. On a spaceship making its way toward a distant speck of luminance, lights shined down on Kurt as he took a similar, lopsided bow. The two previous teams only waved and walked away. Even the members of the New Directions walked off stage without acknowledging those who watched. Kurt had taken the time to instruct Sam, Lauren, Mercedes and the pianist from the band what he expected. Unless someone really did their homework, no one would expect the humble act of thanks. Kurt liked the tradition.

For a brief moment he heard only silence and then the clapping began. Slowly people rose to their feet cheering. Five weeks ago he discussed music with the others. In her usual pushy way Rachel tugged and tore at the New Directions trying to get her way. For six days she badgered Kurt until he agreed to compromise on their final song but he insisted it be a solo. In her dignified way Rachel let her displeasure be known and for the next week she pushed for a duet. Incensed Santana ripped into Rachel. Finn backed Rachel, for the obvious reason. Lauren backed Kurt as did Sam. The rest got caught in the middle. The week that followed became an interesting mix of politics.

Kurt knew Mr. Shu wanted the team to make the choices but it failed. They needed a leader and as the arguments raged Finn slowly evolved into the roll. He stood up to Rachel on more than one occasion followed by rolling eyes and sighs. Santana and Quinn objected but the rest took to his leadership. His presence created a sense of calm that helped to reign Rachel in and caused Lieutenant Schuester to take a less than passive role.

Blue eyes mischievously glanced to the wings. They used the massive assembly hall of lander twenty five of their first public appearance. The wall sections at the back had been moved forward to make wings and supports for curtains and lighting. The transformation amazed the teens because they had never seen the large area changed other than for the tri-ball games. The bright colours of an interesting mural changed the whole feel of the rounded room. Where the stage is normally curved, this alteration made it rectangular.

Motion in the corner of his eye caught Kurt’s attention. Shifting his head slightly that way Sam green orbs came into view. A large part of Kurt wished they had been amber brown but they made him feel comfortable just the same. Shifting thought recycled the hours and it became morning again. With no classes the two teens worked a shift of offset the time used for the concert in the evening. The New Directions would meet up after lunch and Kurt looked forward to it. At this moment, however, he had his arms up to the elbows in a water pump. Humming to himself it helped Kurt relax. He felt uneasy. He had never performed on stage before.

“You’re in a good mood,” Sam commented as he walked into the mechanical room off of the central paddock area of the agricultural lander. Mud and grime stained the standard uniform they had all been given, now so long ago. Like Kurt, they became good work attire.

“Nervous.” Kurt replied as he twisted something inside the housing where several pipes met.

Sam leaned against the housing. “We’ll knock it out of the park.”

“I don’t know. Only Lauren and Rachel, have ever sung before an audience before.”

“Rachel sang for her fathers. Never an audience.”

“She can get high on herself.”

Sam laughed. “Yes, but she had a great voice and I like her.”

“I like her too but at times . . .” Kurt cut himself off and then chuckled.

Sam half smiled. “She’s no better than . . . Karofsky.”

Kurt cringed. Comparing the two did not do justice. Rachel looked far better, smelt better and acted, for the most part, much nicer.

Peering down at Kurt, Sam bluntly asked, “But it’s not what is really bothering you is it?”

Pulling back from the housing, Kurt crouched back as his butt came to rest on his heels. Looking up at Sam, he grinned. Those pouty lips could make him drool but, in that bizarre way, Kurt had Blaine now. Doubt lingered on the edges but somehow he knew Blaine kept his word though he did not know how. Hazel continued to grow stronger with every passing day and the inconsistencies of his form took on definition. Like the mysterious unveiling of a fine piece of art, Kurt could still not make out definite detail other than those wonderfully seductive eyes.

Looking up at Sam, Kurt pushed his lips out. “You wouldn’t believe me even if I tried.”

“Come off it Kurt,” Sam squatted down and gave Kurt that soft, puppy look.

Kurt’s eyes watched Sam’s legs flex. Thick, hard muscle bulged. Kurt smirked and then held his breath.

“Kurt?” Sam gave him a speculative look.

“I had this dream . . .” Kurt paused. His heart pounded in his chest. “Well . . . in it I sang and it felt so real and good. I sang to . . .”

“Blaine?” Sam questioned with a very quiet, almost secretive tone. He stared right into Kurt’s eyes.

Kurt’s face pulled together creating deep lines as his heart sank deep into his chest. He almost fell on his ass.

Sam smiled. “Brittany told us you were writing a book. Well, I don’t quite believe that.”

Kurt looked worried. “Then what do you believe?”

“One, the look on your face told me the truth.” Sam’s held his voice deliberately low and silent. “Second, I know what is really going on and before you jump to conclusions, Jake did not tell me.”

Kurt’s face contorted and his chest constricted his breathing. Eyes fluttering he looked away.

“He’s a good man and would never betray you Kurt. He cares too much.” Sam held up his hand and pointed at the pink mark between his thumb and index finger. “You see this?”

Kurt glanced at Sam and then down at the jagged pink mark. His face paled.

The blond watched, waited and then added, “I overheard Owen speaking to Higgins when the nurse fixed this up.”

“Oh?” Kurt bit his lip. “Then you . . .”

“No, I have not told anyone.” Sam’s thick lips curled up ever so slightly. “Friends do not do that Kurt.”

The smile on Kurt’s face spoke volumes.

Sam bit his lower lip. “Besides, I have dreams as well. I think we all do.”

“What?”

“Kurt, when I . . . don’t know how to explain this, but . . . I knew you, well, all of us before. When I first saw you something inside me said I knew you. It felt as if I had just met a dear friend again after years had gone by. Maybe that was why I really sought you out.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. It just feels . . . I know you somehow Kurt.”

Kurt looked perplexed.

Shrugging Sam added, “Mercedes told me one evening she has been having dreams where she is with others wearing clothing similar to what you make. She was singing.”

“Can she make out with whom?”

“Nope, but she says she was competing.”

Kurt shifted his weight while giving his friend a speculative look. The pounding in his chest pushed heat up into his neck.

Sam sighed. “She has a nagging sensation one person is missing.”

The heart almost exploded. Breathlessly Kurt uttered an almost silent word. “Blaine?”

Sam drew a little closer. His lower lip curled up against his closed mouth. “Perhaps, this Blaine. I don’t know but at times it feels I miss someone I cared for very deeply.”

“Miss?”

“Yes, miss.”

Pain crossed Kurt’s face.

Sam shook his head. “Not like that, Kurt. It is like having mislaid a very dear friend.”

‘Oh?”

“Kurt, I don’t know how to clarify it but I think Mercedes is right.”

In the reality of life of a modular stage Sam’s words struck Kurt in a similar manner—unsettling. At the moment, like then, he did not want to really consider it. Hazel came to him as his eyes slid shut. Reassuring and calming, Kurt stood there for a second wallowing in the sensation. Then he turned and light feet carried Kurt away from the center as the old style curtain drew closed. The foursome followed by the keyboard player felt upbeat. No one knew what to expect when the New Directions had drawn slot three. Lander twenty five had been added to their section. Set out on spoke five with three agriculture landers, the science-medical lander and one of the manufacturing landers, it needed to be placed somewhere. That made seven habitation landers represented by nine teams.

From the back of the wing, the next group hustled forward and out onto stage. Kurt watched them as they strode passed. They seemed much more targeted than the other first two groups and for good reason, they sounded great. Kurt managed to listen to them as they warmed up. Their coordination reminded Kurt of an old group called the Manhattan Transfer.

Sam ran up Kurt and playfully jumped up against the soloist allowing his hands to press down upon singer’s shoulders. The handsome blond grinned from ear to ear. “Again . . . wow . . . how?”

Mercedes swooped in hugging Kurt. She drooled, “That was amazing,”

“I had no real idea what you were up to when this all started,” Lauren slapped Kurt on the back narrowly missing Mercedes’ arm.

Kurt stopped in his tracks and glanced over to Lauren. “To be honest, I did not know myself until the last moment. Shu is going to kill me.”

“More like Rachel,” Mercedes whispered. With her head she indicated the area the bulk of the New Directions stood watching them. “Look at that thunder clap on her face.”

Sam chuckled.

Mercedes pushed into Kurt wrapping her arm tightly about his narrow waist. “You’re going to have to teach me how to do that.”

“It takes a lot to pull it all together,” Kurt stretched the truth.

“Did you hear the audience? They ate it all up.” Lauren beamed. The three backup singers had been just that, back up. When the two voices joined as one the three of them naturally fell further back adding sweeping crescendos without words.

“But why change the words?” Mercedes questioned.

Sam gave Kurt an odd look.

“The original words kind of sucked.” Kurt’s cheeks reddened.

“You could have warned us?” Lauren pushed her lips out.

“I guess I forgot.” Sam shrugged. “We talked this morning and I was supposed to let you two know.”

Lauren’s fist playfully crashed into Sam sending the blond off balance. “You know, I just knew what to do as if as if in a dream.”

A sweaty, lean face turned toward the heavy set girl. Once more Kurt considered what Sam had revealed. The blond teen proved himself to be a real friend or he just did not want to be laughed at for telling crazy stories.

“Pathetically average, porcelain.” Wacky Sue stepped out from behind one of the mobile supports. Dressed in one of her now trademark tracksuits, as it has become known, she glared at the five teens.

Kurt’s eyes went to the twelve performers taking position on stage. He noted their costumes had three white strips running down the arms and legs of their outfits. Seven girls and five guys positioned themselves as the Cheerios would during a tri-ball game.

“You sponsored the Stellers?” Lauren also glanced out onto the stage.

“Regardless of Fairycakes weird vocals,” Sue gave Kurt a very peculiar look, “they’re going to kick your butts, pork chop.”

“Ha, ha.” Lauren looked Lieutenant Sylvester up and down.

“Laugh all you want but you’ll be crying soon. Why don’t you go back to the rest of those losers and watch how true professionals do it.” She made a self-satisfied Sue grin and stormed off to the edge to the stage where she waited for the curtain to slide open.

“Forget about her.” Mercedes pulled Kurt on.

Turning to the section of the wing where the rest of the New Directions stood watching, Kurt slowed. Lieutenant Schuester stared at him with a look the teen could not quite make out—‘I’m annoyed’ to ‘wow’. Half turned to the officer, Rachel looked put out. Noting Kurt, her face pushed together and then she looked up at Finn. Standing beside her in the early twentieth century costumes Kurt and Mercedes had made for them, Finn looked uncomfortable. The jock hated the outfit but Kurt thought they all looked great. Smart, black button down shirts with a bright red tie and dark grey slacks for the boys. The girls wore black and white with some frills at the bottom of the flared dresses and sensible shoes. Kurt would have liked them to wear heels but the girls squawked at the idea and then making them would have been a real pain.

Surprisingly Santana liked the outfits because of the why they accented certain assets. The guys mostly looked displeased while Quinn announced she would not be caught dead in it. Mr. Shu laid down the law and said the rules stated that had to be dressed in period pieces and if not, they would be disqualified. That put an end to that except the constant demands for alterations to make them a little bit more modern. To get them accustomed to the fit, Mr. Shu made them wear their outfits during practice.

“Kurt,” Lieutenant Schuester stepped closer. “I don’t think it was a good idea to make such a drastic change at the last moment. The judges were given what you would be singing so that could study it prior to competing.”

One of Kurt’s eyes brows went up. “Oh?”

“Yes, oh,” Rachel glared at Kurt.

“Sorry.” Kurt’s skin flushed hot pink.

Hands on her hips, Rachel added, “You could get us disqualified.”

“I don’t think so Rachel.” Santana snapped.

“This is only an invitational to work out some of the kinks.” Schuester looked at both girls.

“He still should have stuck to the script.” Rachel went on.

“Honesty Rachel,” Santana rolled her eyes, “you want everything done your way ignoring the rest of us.”

Rachel pulled her shoulders back. “Why not?”

Quinn laughed “Can you do what the boy just did.”

“Ah . . . no.” Rachel looked annoyed.

Quinn glanced at Kurt. “At first I did not take to these archaic stuff, but that was spectacular if not a little bit weird.”

Kurt grinned and glanced at Mercedes who squeezed his arm.

The feisty blond who continued to compete with Rachel for Finn’s attention went on, “I didn’t believe what they said about the Limabean but my god, how did you do that?”

Tina patted Kurt on the shoulder. “Our boy has set the bar.”

“Will you shut up back there,” Lieutenant Sylvester snarls as she stomped toward them. Her team started going through their paces out on stage. Different coloured lights streamed down on them.

Shaking his head Schuester said to his team, “Let’s go to take out seats.”

“But?” Rachel objected.

“Let’s go, sweetie.” Finn took Rachel’s arm and led her to the ramp down to the main level. He glanced at Kurt and grinned.

Rachel glare followed Finn’s gaze and then her nose rose into the air.

“Jealousy becomes her.” Tina whispered to Kurt.

“I heard that,” Rachel shot back.

“Ignore her.” Santana walked passed Kurt. “She’s just a bitch.”

“Hey, that’s not nice.” Kurt threw his volume up a tiny bit in his defense of Rachel. Likeable but maddening, he hoped one day she would understand that the world did not spin about her.

“Big nose reneged on the deal. She got what she deserved.” Santana looked back just before stepping down onto the ramp.

Putting her arm on Kurt’s shoulder Brittany leaned in close. “She needs paper training, that’s all.”

Kurt’s chuckle hid his sadness but then a light touch on his cheek buoyed him. The finger traced up to his ear and then he felt a puff of warmth against his skin. He shivered.

With Puckerman at his back pushing, Artie commented, “Don’t let her get you down. Santana’s right, she’s jealous.”

Glancing back, Kurt smirked. Artie and Puckerman seemed to get along well. The teen with the odd hair even tried to convince Artie to push for the procedure that may actually allow him to walk. Privately Kurt had to admit Puckerman had grown up a lot over the past few weeks.

Tina brushed passed Kurt as he sped for the incline. “You did good and Rachel needed taking down a notch.”

Kurt suddenly stopped. He looked at those still around him. “I just don’t want this to all fall apart.”

“Kurt, we all love singing. That’s the glue but some of us just needed to follow a harder road to get there.” Puckerman’s head bounced back and forth.

Pulling his lips in, Kurt hesitated and then nodded.

“Who was that guy with you on stage?” Brittany suddenly and very innocently asked.

Kurt could have peed himself.

“What guy?” Tina looked back.

Brittany held Kurt’s gaze. “The short one with poodle hair?”

Struggling to control himself, Kurt felt his chest tighten.

“Those numbers melting your brain?” Quinn gave Brittany the strangest look.

“He was holding Kurt’s hand.” Brittany went on.

“Will you lot stop tossing up hairballs and get your loser asses off my stage!” Lieutenant Sylvester snarled at them from a few yards away.”

Kurt looked out on stage. Wacky Sue’s group sang and danced something from two thousand and twenty six. The high energy song sold millions of copies and made the fame for another twenty something boy band. Kurt had to wonder if Lieutenant Sylvester knew that the four member band all had sex changes.

“Hey pimple nose, get your scrawny butt out of here.” Wacky Sues stomped forward.

Blinking, Kurt stumbled toward the ramp with the sound of Sylvester laughing in his ears. Trotting down the two level slope, Kurt found the New Directions gathered in a circle at the bottom off to the right. Me. Shu did the same thing down in the warm up room and then right before they went on stage.

“That was great. Top notch. I couldn’t have expected better.” Schuester turned so he looked at each of his charges one at a time. “If we keep doing that we’re going to win.”

High fives and quiet cheers followed until Rachel said, “If we stick to the game plan.”

“Come off it Rachel, they loved it,” Mike grinned from ear to ear.

“Lieutenant Schuester has a point.” Finn looked directly at Kurt and then to Rachel. “A team is supposed to work together to the same end. I won’t pretend what Kurt did had me spellbound and angry at the same time. Making a change like that could cost us a real competition.”

“I meant no harm.” Kurt looked down as pain flashed across his face.

“You probably didn’t Kurt,” Finn nodded to Mr. Shu, “but discord won’t win the trophy in the end. Do you remember why we did this in the first place?”

Puckerman bowed his head. “To find a safe haven from the bullying.”

“Now let’s go sit and think about it as we cheer on our competitors.” The lieutenant hustled them toward the section of empty seats.

Kurt stood there as the others filed by. Blue eyes followed Puckerman. The sight of his hair made his skin crawl but then he noticed lengthening stubble above the ears. Given a chance anyone could change. A spray of hazel altered Kurt’s life forever.

An hour and a half later the teams stood in tightly packed groups waiting for the announcement of who had won. Kurt lingered to the far side of the New Directions with Rachel at the other in front of Finn. She held her hand behind her back allowing Finn to hold them. Lauren stood close to Kurt with Puckerman behind her. During the intermission the judges, the commanders of the spoke holding the habitation landers, made their decisions.

Apprehension and fright pulled at Kurt. Flashes of hazel against closed eyes fought a stiff battle against hard emotions. Brittany’s blunt but innocent statement had Kurt on edge. How could she have seen Blaine when Kurt did not? What if others had noticed? Then, what of Sam’s harrowing statements. Kurt found himself staring at this bracelet. The mad flashing he had noticed the night of their conversation had become an almost constant light while out on stage. When would they come for him?

Commander Higgins, as host of the invitational, came on stage holding a data pad. Placing himself dead center, he looked at each of the teams and then turned to the audience. “Now, this has been an enjoyable evening. I am so pleased to see the effort each of our teams have made. The arts, in all its forms are a reflection of the minds behind it. A painters draw inspiration from what lies around them and then added their own flair. Writers use the mind in much the same way, twisting words and thoughts to enthrall us. Song writers, singers, dancers and musicians tickle our emotions with sounds and sights meant to capture our souls. These teams proved tonight the human mind and spirit is endless in what it can achieve. Please join me and acknowledge their feat of skill and bravery.”

Higgins began to clap as did the audience. Kurt felt pride and the subtle touch of an invisible hand pressed against his. For a second his eyes went to Brittany who looked at Higgins. Involuntarily, his eyes drifted to Rachel. She watched the proceedings and then her gaze shifted to him with nervous orbs. Suddenly she looked away and then Kurt noticed Finn also looked in his direction with an apologetic look on his face. Beyond the two teens Lieutenant Sylvester glared at Kurt. Her brows drop and her mouth moves to one side as if she is trying to figure something out.

“Now let us find out who is the best of show today. There will be no award but we will learn who is one, two and three. Midweek and next weekend there will be to more invitational gatherings like this. After that the real fun begins. For the next six weeks, the teams will compete for the honour to represent this spoke for the Arc Cup.” Higgins stopped when the packed auditorium started to cheer.

Surveying the teams, Kurt noted Rachel’s eyes on upon him. Finn leaned closer to her as if saying something. Her lips curled up on the ends into a weak smile. Kurt felt relieved.

The commander went on. “Life has been hard for all of use on Earth and less so on this ship. We are still four plus years from our final destination and by the time we get there you will all be young adults. Experiences like sports and the arts, along with study and work ethics will help us survive on our new home. Hard work, while important, is not everything. The human spirit needs exploring and nurturing in order to create a well-rounded society. Today we celebrate life as it may have been centuries ago before the advent of the corporate dictatorship.”

A few boos echoed about the auditorium.

Higgins held up his hand and then glanced at the flat computer in his hand. “As you may have heard, the other spokes held their invitational events earlier this week and the competition is going to be very interesting. There are a number of groups to watch out for such as Vocal Adrenaline of spoke one, the all boy Warblers of spoke two and Stardom of spoke three. But you all want to here who our shining stars are of spokes four and five.”

Cheers rose from the audience.

The commander glanced at his computer. “Now, let us see who we have at the top. Will the Stellers of lander twenty, the New Directions of lander twenty one and the Oceans of lander eighteen please step forward? To the other teams, you all did a good job and remember his is not part of the real competition. The invitational are meant to be instructional.”

Holding his breath, Kurt inched forward with the rest of the teams. His eyes darted this way and that at his nervous friends, the audience and the other top teams. A chill ran down his neck when a warm puff of air caresses his cheek followed by a moist pressing of flesh. In an instant Kurt’s eyes went to Brittany standing beside Santana. The blond stared at him with an ‘I see you’ look on her face. Kurt cringed but then he felt fingers slip into his and press tight.

“In third place,” Higgins briefly paused. “We have the Oceans of lander twenty three.”

The audience clapped and the team jumped up and down.

Higgins waited and then held up a hand. “And the winning of tonight’s invitational, is . . .”  
Kurt heard everyone around him pull in a sharp breath. Mutable fingers tightened about his left hand.

Schuester passed about glasses of sparkling, non-alcoholic drink to the team back in the music room. Everyone, including the musicians, stood about with somber faces. Schuester said in a monotone voice. “Well that’s that. We did our best. I am proud of you all but the best team won . . .”

“Use!” Artie suddenly yelled. He tossed his cup into the air. Tumbling end over end bubbly liquid splashed everywhere. Within seconds all the recyclable glasses flew into the air as everyone yelled, hugging and dumping liquid over each other.


	20. Weird

Finn stared at Puckerman with disbelief. “You’ve got be to joking?”

Puckerman defended himself. “Julie told me.” 

“Honestly, boys will believe anything.” Tina chuckled and then shook her head.

Sandwiched between them like meat between slices of bread, Artie had no choice but to listen to the ludicrous story. “She has to be pulling your leg, all three of them.”

The grin on Puckerman’s face spread.

Rolling her eyes Tina gave Artie one of those ‘really’ looks. 

“Sounds farfetched.” Finn shook his head.

“Thaddeus told her it’s real.” Puckerman defended himself. 

“They couldn’t keep something like that quiet.” Tin placed a hand on Artie’s chair.

“They’ve done well so far.” Puckerman argued.

“Sounds like someone found something to make him forget his worries.” Artie made a motion with two fingers in front of his mouth indicating possible drug use.

Puckerman winked at Artie and then pointed at Kurt. “You’ve been there,” 

Finn frowned. “What do you think, Kurt?”

Most of the words bounced off Kurt’s ears without being absorbed. He did not really care. Standing just inside his little island of sanity, all he wanted to do involved a shower and sleep. A damned bird got sucked into air exchanger in the atrium and it took extra time to fix it. Adding a wire mess hopefully solved future issues. The problem now became doing it to all the air exchangers. Thankfully Kurt did not have to do all the work himself. Jake would see to the modification being made in all the landers.

Gazing at his friends, Kurt sighed. The past month had been hard. The New Directions won two of their invitational events. The first competition performance had them place third behind the Stellers in first. It sort of took the wind out of their sails. They won the next meet, but barely. Winning the third event brought their spirits up but coming in second to the Stellers on the fourth brought reality home. Tied for first place overall and with three weeks to go they tried different tactics. Mike took charge of the physical side of things by ramping up the dance routines and Mr. Shu pushed for vocal improvement. Everyone struggled and became disheartened but Finn sportsman like encouragements won them all over. The next meet lay two days off and they practiced every spare minute.

Apprehension played with Kurt’s emotions. Rachel and Santana blamed Kurt for not doing that thing with his voice. He wanted too but those hazel eyes and soft touches came to him on someone else’s schedule. Sam caught up with him in private a few times. Kurt tried to explain he could not just dredge it up. Sam did not really press and defended Kurt to the others. After particularly horrific practice Kurt remembered something. During their one conversation Blaine expressed sentiment about how hard it had been on him.

Yawning, Kurt glanced at the four of them through red rimmed eyes. “I’m going to bed.”

“You’re no fun?” Puckerman pouted.

Kurt glanced at his old tormentor. “No, I’m tired.”

“You’re not at least interested?”

“Nope.”

“Come off it Kurt.”

“No, Noah, you’re not going to sleep with me.”

The four teens watching Kurt all pulled back in shock. 

The weary teen chuckled. The looks on their faces made his day. 

“Not that . . . Kurt.” Puckerman had the strangest look on his face. “You can get us into seventy two.”

A puff of air escaped Kurt’s lungs and he felt suddenly awake. Standing tall he pushed his shoulders back he firmly stated, “You have to be joking. You know I can’t get in there without supervision.”

“And I know you can,” Artie piped up. Excitement filled his eyes. 

One of Kurt’s eyebrows went up as his eyes shifted to the boy in the wheelchair. “You can’t honestly believe this cock-n-bull story.”

“You know more than we do about what’s been happening in seventy two. Aren’t you at least interested?” Artie smiled at Kurt.

“Come on Kurt. The third scout returned two days ago.” Puckerman pulled out his little computer and tapped on the screen. The display snapped on and he flicked his finger against something. An image appeared of deep space and the sleek shape of a five hundred foot long oval craft approaching the Arc. Swiveling around on its central axis the ship gently came to a rest next to seventy two side air lock.

“Big deal.” Kurt rolled his shoulders and glanced back at the door to his shower. His nose curled up. He stunk. 

“Big deal? Big deal? Thaddeus swears they brought something big back with then.” Puckerman stepped closer to Kurt. 

“Yeah, right?” Kurt shook his head and stretched his back by bending over ever so slightly. 

Reaching out, Puckerman swatted at the pass swinging from a loop attached to Kurt’s belt. “This little thing could open almost any door on the ship.”

“Almost,” Kurt pulled away and then yawned again. “Why don’t you argue this somewhere else? Good night.”

Finn looked down at Artie and shrugged. Artie looked disappointed. The expression on Tina face revealed she did not care either way. Puckerman on the other hand stood there with a hard look on his face. Suddenly he pulled a knife from his pocket and grabbed Kurt’s belt. 

“Hey!” Kurt yelled in a high pitched tone. 

The blade slid effortlessly through the thick, weaved fabric and Kurt’s pass vanished along with his assailant. Puckerman’s feet carried him off at a full run before anyone had realized what had happened. 

“Bring that back here!” Kurt yelled as he smashed his hand on the apron control that would seal his cubicle. Effortless dancing around his friends he weaved between the few teens walking up and down the gangway. Seconds later he vanished down the stairs. 

Tina watched Kurt dart off and then tore off after him herself. Side stepping a couple of girls she bounded down the closest set of stairs. 

Shocked, the jock pushed the wheelchair along in full pursuit. Needing a lift to get to the bottom level, the jock made it to the end of the row and waited. He noticed Puckerman running toward the exit and the tram system with Kurt running after him. The larger teen had an advantage over Kurt because of his physical condition. Like Finn, Puckerman played tri-bal. 

The race through the corridors ended exactly in the manner Kurt knew expected—Puckerman made it to the outgoing tram just as it pulled away from the station. Aggravated, Kurt paced back and forth swearing under his breath. Arms folded over his chest, he grudgingly interacted with the few teens that came up to him to say hello. His singing had given him some measure of respectable notoriety but right now it got in the way. Some of his comments had an edge to them but his better nature prevented him from being rude. 

Every so often he closed his eyes and hazel instantly curled up replacing the darkness of inner sight. He thanked it presence though it did little to curb his anxiety. There would be no hiding and no end of trouble if they caught Puckerman with his security pass.

With no way to catch up, Kurt looked down at his satchel and pushed his lips out. Pulling out his little computer he tapped into the internal video communications network.

“Kurt?” Jake questioned a few seconds later. The man had grease all over his face.

“Jake, Puckerman took my sec. . .” Suddenly he tapped the power switch turning the device off. Lowering his head, Kurt’s fist rolled up into a ball. Jake would call back. What a foolish move.

Closing his eyes brought those warm feeling hazel hues generated flooding past Kurt’s fears. A familiar sense of calm rushed down to his toes and up to the top of his head. Leaning against one of the nearby chairs he thanked its existence even as he drew in a deep breath. The heart rose in his chest but the inconsistent touch he longed for did not come.

The sound of air rushing down the tube announced the arrival of the next tram. Pushing off from the chair, Kurt stepped toward the slowing vehicle. From out of nowhere a hand abruptly caught his arm from behind. Swinging a half turn Kurt looked surprised. “Tina?” 

“Where did he go?” Tina hurried pulled in air as if she had been running. 

Kurt pointed to the passenger car. “Where do you think? Seventy two?”

“He’s going to get in trouble.”

“If what had been said had any truth to it, his actions will land me in prison.”

“You can’t believe that?”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe. He has my pass.”

As soon as the doors opened Tina pushed Kurt into the tram. The motion of the vehicle accelerating caused Kurt to adjust his footing. A hand came up pressing into Tina who almost lost her balance herself. Bracing his fingers against the back of a seat Kurt looked for officers or crew. To his surprise the few he saw did not seem to care. In the days following the first invitational no one swooped in to take him back to isolation. Lieutenant Sylvester continued to give him strange looks every time their paths crossed but then it meant nothing. She always did. Mr. Shu seemed no different but Lieutenant Pillsbury made increasingly frequent appearances at practices.

Thankfully, during that same period, Kurt’s relationship with Jake got better. Friday night dinners continued and their conversations became more free and enticing. Mu Arae B became a topic of conversation as they discussed flights of fantasy. Since the captain’s announcement more detail had been released. The advanced survey had pinpointed a number of landing sights. When the time came the landing modules would settle onto the planet surface in a manner which would result in small communities nestled about a large lake and along a fat river feeding into a large ocean. Located a day’s travel apart from each other, the survival of all depended on the independence of each community. Everything on the Arc had been designed to make the entire operation work. After the landers had settled into positon the three scout ships would start taking the mothership apart. Segments of the inner sections would become the guideways of the trams connecting the communities. The trams and the tubes themselves would be dismantled and put back together again. The reactors from the engine compartment would be shuttled down to the planet to provide power for each settlement. Decades of planning, design and construction ensured the Arc would be a useless skeleton after three years of life on their new home. Its last act would be to use it remaining systems to send itself into the sun. 

Each location had been chosen for a purpose and certain modules would be deployed to specific landing zones. Most of the manufacturing landers would end up close to detected natural resources. There special robotic devices would drill the shafts and extract the minerals. Foundries would then transform it for manufacture. The agricultural modules would be spread out amongst all the landing sites but the bulk would be concentrated in two fertile locations. If everything went according to plan within ten years futuristic buildings of gleaming glass would have risen above the natural environment. There would be none of the urban sprawl of Earth but rather controlled development meant not to spoil their new home. Humans had all but destroyed Earth’s natural environment. The Foundation wanted balance and harmony with nature. To Kurt it all seemed logical.

Surrogate father and son opened up to one another. Jake helped Kurt with all sorts of things Burt would have. After a few weeks they even spoke about what happened in isolation even though Kurt kept certain details to himself. Since the first invitational Kurt and some of his friends talked about dreams and at their last dinner Kurt brought up the subject with Jake. To the teen’s surprise Jake understood and even added some of his own experiences. Those conversations proved valuable because Jake had a knack for interrupting dreams. Seeing a specific person may not mean the real person occupied the dream. What did that person represent? That became the important thing. Seeing one of the commanders in a dream might indicate a person of power. Seeing a minstrel may reveal a creative person. Sometimes people embodied real events or structures. The whole idea gave Kurt must fuel for thought.

Kurt did not see Blaine as anyone but Blaine. How could he think of him in any other way? At one time Kurt might have thought of Blaine as a vision but now Kurt understood so much more. Certain intimate activities and two wonderful songs opened his eyes to something he did not really comprehend but needed to explore. 

Tina and Kurt transferred trams a couple of times before they got on the one destined for seventy two. The moment the double doors slid open Kurt exploded out onto the platform at high speed of, Caught off guard she ran after him catching up with Kurt when he got to the large pressure doors at the end of the platform. Tina’s pass got them past the thick, solid gates but Kurt knew his security card would be needed to unseal the next. The two sets of doors they still had to face represented the real threshold of seventy two. The large hall they entered had been designed to prevent a catastrophic failure should the large grappling system holding the lander to the Arc fail. If the lander had to be released for any reason other than what had been programmed the section they now stood in would expel itself from the Arc. Retro rockets would push the lander away from the vessel and then detach itself. 

“Which way?” Tina questioned as she slid to a stop beside Kurt.

The boy shrugged. “Either direction. They both go to the same place in the end. The lander’s doors are only a few yards passed the curve in the wall.”

Glancing in both directions, Tina said, “Let’s try the right?”

“Wrong,” Puckerman’s voice echoed down the passage. 

Turning on his heels, Kurt glanced at Tina and then began to walk. With his rhythm of his heart pounding against his ribs he half expected some of the crew to come racing out from some hiding place to grab them. Instead they found Puckerman leaning against the wall twirling a security pass around one finger.

“Puckerman?” Kurt said in a calm voice. 

“Looking for this?” Puckerman said with a playful grin. He looked down at the control module for the doors. He effortlessly waved the pass in front of it. 

Tina cozied up next to Kurt with a serious look on her face. 

“Tina, nice to see you.” Puckerman purred.

Kurt gave Puckerman a hard glare. “Just give it back and we can get out of here.” 

Pushing off from the wall, Puckerman shook his head. “You’re not a bit curious of what is on the other side?”

Kurt edged closer to the reformed bully. “The last time I was here the foreign eco-system housed within the large central hold did not look like it would survive. Like all plants, when they are uprooted, they need time to send out roots and adjust. Problems with the water recirculation system did not help matters. Drawing water from the pond to create mists and rain proved easy enough. Stopping the filters from clogging became a major issue along with leaks in the makeshift housings of the redirected piping.”

“Come off it Noah, they will know we’re here by now.” Tina stood there with her hands on her hips. 

Taking an involuntary step back Puckerman glanced at the security pass. “No one will think anything of us entering the air lock section. There’s an observation room below us.”

Kurt took another small step. “As soon as you swipe someone will be alerted.”

The pass hit the wall and a soft hiss of hydraulics releasing pressure echoed in the hall. Two doors twice the height of the average man and just as wide began to separate. Kurt lunged but Puckerman who squeezed through the narrow opening and into the forbidden zone. Going sideways so he could easily pass through the opening, Kurt’s fingers grabbed onto Puckerman’s jacket and then slid away. Tumbling to the floor Kurt rolled and then scrambled to his feet with Tina’s help. Puckerman had a good head start.

The curving wall of the inner hold of the lander slowly gave way to the windows and scaffolding Kurt new so well. With the sound of Puckerman’s feet echoing ahead of them, Tina and Kurt charged on. Tina slowed when she first caught sight of lush greens mixed with purples, blues and yellows. Large tropical leaves pressed against the two transparent metal walls with a layer of gel between. Here and there huge blooms broke up the shadows.

“Tina?” Kurt questioned as he slowed and turned about.

She pointed. “Look.” 

Even Puckerman decelerated and wandered back to join the others. 

From their vantage point the teens gazed through opening in the thick vegetation into what looked like a meadow on the edge of a pond. Four circular huts made of wood and huge leaves sat together on the far side of the sparkling water. The closest looked like a bump rising up out of grasses and shrubs. Barely a yard and a half high at its apex it spanned an area of three yards in diameter. Two equally crude structures towered a good fifteen feet up before the roof curved to its peak rested next to one another close to a stand of thick trees. Perhaps twenty five feet in diameter the walls stood on a slight angle toward the center. The outside supports appeared to be thick timbers shoved into the ground with a lattice of thick leaves meshed together between them. The last sat closest to the water and looked to be no more than eight feet in height and less than twenty around. The darkened entrances of the two facing the staring teens opened out into a clearing with a fire pit dug into the ground. 

All of sudden Tina screamed and Kurt turned to grab her. Something with leathery wings and feathers flipping from branch to branch. 

Puckerman laughed.

“Asshole,” Tina growled at the boy with the stubbly head. Swallowing, the colour returned to her face. 

“I think it was a . . . bird?” Puckerman continued to chuckle and the looked at Kurt. 

Annoyed, Kurt’s face hardened. His hands came up before him and then he let them fall to the side. He kept his thoughts to himself. 

“It scared me.” Tina gave Puckerman a sour look. 

The stubbly haired boy continued to laugh.

“It’s not funny.” Kurt grabbed security key from Puckerman. The other boy did not resist. “Time to go.”

Puckerman smirked. “We’re here. Let’s looks around.” 

Angrily, Kurt responded. “No, we leave!”

Tina suddenly gasped and stepped backward into Kurt holding a hand against her mouth. 

Spinning about Kurt noticed the oriental girl stared into the plants with a look of horror on her face. At that moment Kurt saw something move in his peripheral vision and his head snapped that way. At first Kurt thought it might be one of the crew in an environmental suite but then he saw something very thin and tall within the vegetation on their side of the pond. His heart froze.

“Fuck!” Puckerman held his hand against his chest. He glanced at Tina and snickered. “Another bird?”

A chill spiraled up Kurt’s back but he could not pull himself away. “What the . . .”

Shaking his head, Puckerman stepped closer to the transparent metal. Bending down his eyes narrowed. “It’s just a branch.”

“A brand doesn’t do that.” Tina pointed.

“Oh . . . my . . .” Puckerman almost choked on the words. The bully took a step back. The colour had drained from his face.

Kurt pressed his face closer to the transparent metal. Squinting he stared into the darkened shadows trying to make out exactly what he saw. “It’s . . .”

Less than twenty feet away, three long, boney, two foot long fingers wrapped around a thick, green-brown-purple tree trunk. A bunch of foliage rustled and then a rectangular shape came into view. Flat on the top and rounded on the edges like a thick, overhanging hat brim, the hairless skelp turned as if something looked toward the rippling water. The smooth skin beneath the overhang became a series of small bumps that got bigger as they reached the shoulders. Two large, oval eyes glistened in the shadows beneath the extended cranium. Between eyes three sharp gashes lined with stiff flaps of skin resemble nostrils none of teens had seen before. Three, one yard long tentacles protruded from around small mouth. Layers of dark grey, leathery cloth stretched down from slim shoulders in large pleats. 

The thing paused and then drew itself up to it full height of nearly fourteen feet. The cloth hanging down to the ground moved revealing a thin but muscular leg and an overly elongated boney arm covered in blotching, gray green skin. Three long, lean gnarled toes pressed down into the soil. Turning toward those viewing, its chest sunk into the ribs and the belly extended out like a medicine ball. About the neck dangled a single glistening pink crystal. Slowly the tentacles reached up to one of the large leaves and pulled it toward its tiny maw. It slowly nibbled the vegetation. 

“Bloody hell,” Tina breathlessly gasped. She hid behind Kurt with her head pressed against the teen’s shoulder.

“Fuck, Julie . . . God damn it . . . Fuck!” Puckerman’s words barely escaped his lips. Pushing his hand against the transparent metal he stared wide eyed at the grazing monstrosity. “Will this protect us?”

The magnitude of this moment had Kurt clued to the spot. Dumb founded, he just stared at what would have been the greatest discovery in human history. Probes had been sent out his far but life had never been reported. What if Kurt looked at human’s first contact with alien life? The thought excited him. 

“Kurt, did you . . .” Tina squeezed her hands tightly about Kurt’s bicep.

The teens shook his head. All that work on the water system and he never realized lander seventy two would be used for something like this. Wide blue eyes studied the skeleton like thing. It had a graceful beauty the teen found mesmerising. Walking about the plants it revealed a reverence as it studied the leaves before it tasted. Jake must have known.

“Weird?” Tina’s voice could barely be heard.

“It’s intelligent!” Kurt blurt out.

“Fuck’n what?” Puckerman stepped away from the wall while still leaning against it with both hands. The look on his face could not be described.

Tina trembled against Kurt. “Can it see us?”

“It’s . . .” Kurt drew in a deep breath as his eyes scanned the tall skinny thing grazing on a tree, “. . . a one way window.”

“They’ll never believe us.” Puckerman shuffled closer to the window as the strange creature moved out of sight. 

“We’d better get out of here.” Tina pulled away from Kurt even though her hand slipped into his. She looked frightened. 

Annoyance flared and then Kurt felt relief when he looked down. Her left hand rested in his right. His left hand felt sacred now. Only Blaine’s fingers fitted it. 

“Humm . . . perhaps you’re right,” Puckerman stepped back from the wall. His eyes fell on Kurt. The muscles of his face pulled together and then he drew in a deep breath. “What the fuck are they up to?”

“How the hell would I know?” Kurt’s forehead scrunched up. 

Puckerman nose curled up on one side and the opposite eyebrow pressed up toward his thickening hairline. “You’ve been coming here all these months and . . .”

“Damn it Jake.” Kurt sighed. 

“What?” Tina demanded. She squeezed Kurt’s hand. 

Shaking his head, Kurt looked upset. “Jake told me all the plants and other forms of life had been brought here so they could study them and learn about the microscopic world of our new home.”

“You means deceases and things like that.” Noah Puckerman had his face pressed against one of the one way windows staring into the vegetation choking the center of seventy two.

“Yuck.” Tina made a face. 

“It’s only logical.” Puckerman glanced at Tina. “I am studying the medical sciences and I would do something like this.”

“And you knew nothing?” Tina accused Kurt.

“This . . . no . . . I never.” Kurt stopped as he chin lowered down toward his chest as if he fought being sick. “They planted and moved soil and rock about. But this . . . I had no idea.”

“Let’s . . .” Tina let out a shaky breath as she tugged on Kurt again. Suddenly she froze. Tapping Kurt on the shoulder, she pointed into the plants. 

The eyes of two male teens followed the finger and then their chins dropped. From between the two larger huts a huge dinosaur like monstrosity stomped forward carrying what looked like a fifteen foot long shipping container. Plodding toward the clearing on an angle, the creature’s massive stumpy legs held the tremendous weight. A thick, yard long tail helped keep the ten foot tall, hulking mass of muscle balanced. The thirty degree slope of the wedge shaped cranium started just above the eyes and tripled in width where it extended over the shoulders. Two rows of short spines ran along each side of the skull. Hulking shoulders supported the head’s bulk. A column of tightly packed bumps ran toward the wide back of head and then down to the base of the neck. Smooth, hairless, dark green, leathery skin covered its rippling body. The lack of clothing allowed the three teens to easily see its generous male attributes. 

The long, black eye slit running the width of the wide face provided a two hundred and thirty degree field of vision. Widest above the nostrils, three oval, yellow eyes moved independently from side to side and up and down. From under the widest point of the eye and extending to the chin where it fanned out into two spikes ran a sharp ridge of bone. The creature had no apparent nose and a large, drooping mouth with two huge fangs jutting up from its lower jaw.

Bending at the knees the thighs flexed to almost twice the size. Carefully placing the container on the ground, massive biceps expanded with the effort. Pulling away revealed the fact the elbows consisting of rotating joints. From the each joint protruded two long tentacles topped with three slender fingers. 

Straightening up multiple fingers fell onto its wide hips as it stretching its back. Pulling at a chain hanging about its thick neck, a bright yellow crystal came to rest between large pictorial muscles. Thick, lips curled up and then its large mouth opened as if it called to someone. 

Something moved in the darkness of second smallest habitation and then a five foot five humanoid form appeared in the shadows. Leaning against a wooden support, the pose of the upper body gave the impression the individual stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. Far less muscular than humans, the darkened figure tapped one of its two fingers against a scaly forearm. The long thumb extended out from under the wrist joint. The nails of the three widely spread toes reminded the viewers of a cat. Claws retracted back into hidden sheaths. 

Shifting one foot, the light cast through the thick vegetation revealed layers of scales varying from green to purple with sparse white highlights. Unique patterns started above the groin extending in a narrow ‘V’ shape which fluted at the chest before diving over the shoulders to the back. There the pattern exploded with exceptional distinction. Large, bright scales followed the incongruously lumpy but muscular contours of the back. Spreading around under the arm and down the legs, the frequency increased as their size decreased. 

Silhouetted against the light shining from the side, three cranial ridges started just above the eyes and reached up over the head. Ending in a curved, horn-like mass of flesh, it grew up on an angle from the back of the head. From the base of his formation a sharp crease worked its way down the spine where it became a series of well-defined but smaller bumps. The beak-like mouth set into folds of tiny scales moved sideways and up and down beneath two large, dark, oval independently moving eyes.

The reptile pushed off from the wall and strode over to the hulking creature as if it owned the place. Wearing a vest open at the front and back along with something like shorts, a single red crystal hung about its neck. Stopping in front of the dinosaur, the reptile placed its hands on its hips. Staring up at the huge beast its beak moved as if it spoke. The larger beast’s leather lips curled up as if it laughed. Joining in, the smaller of the two reached over and touched something with one of his two fingers. Light flashed on the side of the container and then part of it slid open revealing all sorts of carefully packed stuff.

Thin metal walls separated the container into sections. Most rose vertically but one lay horizontal mostly because of one item held there. A large apparatus made of what looked like shiny, red wood occupied most of the lower horizontal portion. Bundles of cloth and small wooden boxes filled in the spaces keeping everything firmly in place. Something similar to a mattress rested on top of the metal divider. Wedged between that and the top of the container pieces of what could be dismantled furniture surrounded by more cloth bundles. The shorter alien opened on of the stacked boxes stuffed into the lower section. 

Kurt stared in amazement. “Books?”

“What?” Tina huddled between Kurt and Puckerman watching. 

“Books.” Kurt repeated. “And that big thing is a piano.”

“A what?” Puckerman’s voice could barely be heard.

“Puckerman, don’t you pay attention. Mr. Shu went through all the instruments weeks ago.” Kurt felt he should not need to explain this. He leaned into the one way window to get a better look. 

“Yeah, a piano?” Puckerman laughed.

“It seemed out of place with that lot. You sure, Kurt?” Tina sounded more than a bit afraid.

Turning to Tina, Kurt suddenly called out as a shape reared up on the other side of the transparent metal right in front of his face. Falling back onto his ass his heart crashed into his ribs as his mouth fell open. Gazing up into the vegetation Kurt stared at a fussy haired teen with dazzling smile. Incredible amber-brown eyes stared into him as if the wall did not exist.


	21. Waiting

What else could Kurt do? Breathe for one. Life took a hard swing to the right and god knows where it would end? Illuminated numbers ruled the moment as a foot impatiently tapped the hard floor with each maddening second. Blue eyes gazed up at an illuminated point above solid door in front of him. His heart beat with the flashing of the device counting up the seconds to the fifteen minute mark and then what? Would this be a surprise? It had to be but then . . . Kurt’s mind buzzed. How long would he be in there? Could he run? Would he run? Pulling at his shirt the coolness felt good against sweaty skin. At times he felt a faint and then he would feel elated. On the other side of the door the real thing waited. He could not stop smiling.

Currents of air attempted to mess his hair as the recirculation system removed the ships air and replaced it with mixture found in the in the large, vegetated chamber on the others side. Now and then he would smell something he did not recognize or he would sneeze. In some manner it reminded him of standing on top of the massive building he once lived. Things had been far from perfect back then but what lay beyond that door would change his life forever. Seven minutes and thirteen seconds until it opened. Too long. 

Half a lifetime ago he stood in the captain’s office listening to hushed words. Hell could not have been worse. With Tina and Puckerman on either side, he faced Jake, Higgins, Sylvester, Schuester, Pillsbury and Hildebrandt. The sight of the ‘Mad Scientist of the Arc’, a less than enduring nickname, made Kurt nervous. 

Humiliated when the expected happened, Kurt’s heart all but exploded in his chest. Sub-lieutenant Judy Stratford and three crew members found him with his butt planted on the deck gazing dumbfounded at the wall. Tina’s reaction gave warning but Puckerman’s false accusations brought Kurt back to the real world. Glancing away from the stunning boy staring at him through a one way wall he should not be capable to see through, Kurt froze—Blaine stood less than two yards away. 

The fact they all had guns frightened the teens who willingly complied with instructions. Commanding words pulled Kurt from the wall but his eyes could not leave the long, narrow view port. An adorable boy, with eyes that made his heart melt, followed along as far as he could. Eventually distance separated them and then it all crashed in about Kurt. Tumbling to his knees he leaned forward until his head touched the deck. Remaining still he fought back sobs until Tina’s soft words brought calm. Taking her left hand he dragged himself to his feet.

Puckerman made all sorts of justifications while throwing Kurt under the bus. On the other hand, Tina defended Kurt. The officer did not care either way. She just marched them all off to the tram. The vehicle sped along in the tubes not stopping until it got to the forward station close to the bridge. Kurt glanced out the window at the platforms and the angry looks of those waiting. He hoped they did not know who the speeding device carried.

The sub-lieutenant and the guards departed after the teens had deposited at captain’s spacious office. Four times the size of Lieutenant Sylvester’s workplace, it held a large desk with three comfortable chairs in front of it against one wall beneath a moderately large display. Along the opposite wall stretched a long thin table surrounded by several chairs and backed by another huge screen. In the center of the room rested a large, very old globe of the earth on a bulky, round and equally old table. Several pieces of old and modern art hung on the walls. Karl Degras sat back in a padded swivel chair listening to the discussion with a contemplative look on his face. Kurt stared with disbelief. He had always seen the captain as a young man with curly, dark hair. Before his sat a middle aged balding blond man with a long scar down his cheek. 

Somewhere within the morass of scattered emotions that nagging part of Kurt kept repeating a single word—fool. Some aspect of the mind listened and Kurt’s heart dropped. He had deluded himself. His emotions had been all over the map since waking. A beating almost made him lose it. Colours invaded sleep and waking minutes created bouts of unrestrained fear. Then gentle words within his mind pulled the blinkers away revealing the ultimate truth. Never again would he question Blaine’s existence. 

Each step along the way to the see the captain brought the teen closer to abyss. When his left foot hit the floor he felt elated. The right would bring terror. His mother would have told him no child should have to consider such things. Burt would tell him to step into his fate and face it head on. These two perceptions became his footfalls. Only one thing kept him on the straight and narrow—Blaine. If it had not been for a thick walls Kurt would have thrown himself at the stunning boy. 

Puckerman made a low grunt. Kurt looked up to find those hard eyes staring back. Kurt’s sometimes tormentor had a wild look that both amused and worried Kurt. Considering his past and present, Puckerman had been called in the carpet many times but this had a serious edge to it none of them could deny. Their lives depended on what seven adults decided. Kurt had hope Jake would defend him but then the man had a duty to the ship. Disappointing the dear man wounded Kurt. 

The volume about the desk rose suddenly and the teens caught a few more words. Kurt blinked when Lieutenant Sylvester turned to look at him. The corners of her mouth rolled up into a scowl. A shiver down Kurt’s to the balls of his feet. Her gaze brought a pause in the hushed conversation around the captain’s desk. Many adult eyes bore down on him.

Shrinking back Kurt felt suddenly very self-conscious. Looking down at his feet the teen really did not know what to think. The skin on his cheeks flushed and when his eyes slammed shut he wished that hazel colour would come to him. Damn it where had it gone! With Blaine only a few miles away in a forest surely being this close would make it easier.

Drowning emotion ripped into Kurt’s heart. Breathing in short, quick spurts he reached out for support. His hand fell on Tina’s forearm. The girl looked his way and her eyes filled with pity. Tears glistened in Kurt’s eyes. She wrapped her arm about him. 

From the other side Puckerman gave his two compatriots in crime a heavy look. He whispered, “Oh, such it up.”

“You’re such a lump,” Tina snarled back.

The supposedly reformed bully laughed. “You don’t get it, do you? They’re discussing our fate.”

Kurt looked surprised. “They wouldn’t?”

Tina swallowed.

Sub-lieutenant Pillsbury glanced back before leaning over to say something to Jake. The mechanic peeked over his shoulder at the youths. 

“Don’t delude yourselves. Karofsky is still locked up. No one has . . .” Puckerman fell silent. Everyone looked at them. 

Separating himself from the pack, Jake approached the teens. Hard eyes feel on Puckerman and then he looked to Kurt. Stooping down he gazed up at Kurt’s bowed, pouting face and smiled. Placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder, the mechanic said, “You’re not in that kind of trouble, any of you.”

“Don’t speak for me, grease jockey,” Lieutenant Sylvester interrupted. “The lot of them should be locked way for the duration of our journey and then they could be put to work.”

Kurt pulled away from Tina and glanced to his right and left. Wiping his eyes, he noted Tina and   
Puckerman stared. The aching in his chest spread to his back and down his arms. Radiating into his stomach he blinked looking for relief. None came.

“We did nothing . . .” Puckerman murmured.

“You did nothing?” Wacky Sue turned away from the desk at took two steps. “Using butthead’s pass to . . .”

Tina pointed at Puckerman. “Hey, he stole it from and we tried to get it back.”

“You were just as interested as I was.” Puckerman defended himself.

“Oh shut up!” Tina snapped. 

“Truth from the mouths of delinquents.” Sylvester purred. 

Looking at the young, fiery girl, Jake smiled at her. “Don’t listen to the lieutenant, she’s nothing but a bitter old . . .”

“That’s enough of that!” Sylvester growled. One hand on her hip she glared at the mechanic. 

Jake turned and faced the lieutenant. “You have been harassing and intimidating these kids and others for far too long. Why don’t you do an honest day’s work instead of setting in your office trying to figure out how to get your Cheerios and Stellars the latest and greatest in socks and underwear?”

“Listen her you big fat pile of . . .” Sylvester pointed at the mechanic.

“Let it stand, lieutenant,” Higgins cut in. His dark eyes moved to Jake and then to Hildebrandt.

“No, commander I won’t.” Sylvester took a step closer to his superior. She pointed at the teens and the crew who supported them. “They’re all a bunch of loser who flaunt the rules. Those brats threaten the security of this ship and expose themselves to dangers they know nothing about. Those things . . .”

“Our guests.” Pillsbury corrected. Standing off to one side she tried to stay out of the fire line. Her eyes fell on the ships senior officer.

“Things . . . things! They should never have been brought on board. We have no idea what they will do or how . . .” Sylvester suddenly shut her mouth and then looked to Hildebrandt and then back at Higgins who she sneered at. “Once again Hummel has dragged two innocents into his den of pimpled inadequacy. We know he cheated on stage. The New Directions should be disqualified and spread all over the ship.”

“Now that is going too far,” Lieutenant Schuester confronted his fellow officer. “I grant you he managed to pull of something rather amazing but disqualification?”

"I don't trust a man with curly hair. I can't help picturing small birds laying sulfurous eggs in there, and I find it disgusting." Sylvester walked up to Schuester and stood there nose to nose. “Yes, disqualification. He had help from someone . . . thing . . . who is not part of your loser team and . . . an alien to boot.”

“Blaine’s is not an alien!” Kurt yelled with fire in his eyes.

“Listen to that infected incompetent . . . whatever.” Wacky Sue cast a damning finger at Kurt. “His lily white ass is probably already infected. We all could be.”

Tina and Puckerman shot Kurt a look. Puckerman stepped away. A hand came up to Tina’s face as her natural skin tone paled.

Squaring his shoulders Kurt’s stomach turned. Involuntarily taking a step forward the glared at Lieutenant Sylvester. “I don’t like the way you speak to me.”

“What’s that faircakes?” Sylvester dismissively replied.

“My name is Kurt, Kurt Hummel!” Kurt yelled at her. “Not fairycakes, greasy, homo or faggot, but Kurt Hummel!”

Leaned toward Kurt, Sylvester said in a firm tone, “You may be one of the stupidest teens I've ever encountered and that's saying something. I'm tough. I'm ambitious and I know what I want. The sight of you makes me want to run to one of the isolation chambers and disinfect myself."

“And I’m not infected. I’m . . .” Kurt feel silent. This proved nothing. 

A shot of air loudly escaped Sylvester’s mouth and then she laughed. 

“There is no evidence of infection.” Hildebrandt calmly stated. He glanced at the captain.

“Your head is as stuffed as Schuester’s.” Lieutenant Sylvester threw back at the renowned scientist. 

Taking a few steps toward Kurt, Wacky Sue looked like she would explode. The mechanic turned to face the Lieutenant Sylvester even though his eyes proudly remained on Kurt.

“Enough.” The captain’s soft voice, deep voice has an edge to it. 

Everyone glanced toward the deck. 

“Lieutenant Sylvester you will restrain yourself and we will keep our comments on topic.” Leaning back into his chair, Captain Degras had the most serious look on his face. The silence held for a few seconds and the he glanced up at Hildebrandt. “Well, doctor, what do you have to say?”

Stepping back from the large desk, the head of the science unit rubbed his chin. “As previously stated Mr. Hummel shows no sign of infection.”

Sylvester grunted and made a face.

The scientist ignored her and pointed at the teens. “The world we left is a decaying mass of festering flesh. These, children . . . no young adults . . . yes . . . have done nothing more than I would have when I was their age and did.”

The teens looked surprised.

The doctor carried on. “We know Mr. Puckerman instigated their hurried journey.”

Pulling his lips in, Puckerman’s face contorted.

Hildebrandt smiled. “He does not even hide his guilt well. He ran with that Karofsky fellow, so I guess something rubbed off. Anyhow, what happened to them is none of my affair. I am more interested in the connection between Mr. Hummel and this Mr. Anderson.”

Anderson? Blaine Anderson? Kurt never knew Blaine’s surname but it rang in his heart like a silver bell. Anderson-Hummel . . . what music.

“And that is the point that led to what I would call duplicitous howling.” Lieutenant Sylvester glared at Kurt.

“That still has nothing to do with this,” Lieutenant Schuester objected. 

“You’re wrong, Lieutenant Schuester, it has everything to do with it,” Hildebrandt injected. 

Pushing her chest out, Lieutenant Sylvester beamed. 

The doctor calmly walked over to the wall and tapped the huge monitor. A holographic keyboard appeared and his fingers did the walking. “There is something very interesting going on here and, before you say it Lieutenant Sylvester, it’s not dangerous.”

Kurt blinked and hazel he desired did not appear. The back of his shirt stuck uncomfortably to his skin. The blood pumping through his veins pounded in his ears.

A worried look passed across Jake’s face. Touching the teen on the shoulder, he said to his friend in a tender tone, “Don’t let any of this frighten you. Lieutenant Sylvester is a big blunderbuss.”

Sylvester gave Jake a hard look but she pointed her words at Schuester. “Even the good doctor agrees.” 

“Oh shut up,” Schuester snapped. 

Pulling herself up to her full height Wacky Sue’s eyes bore into Mr. Shu. Neither officer gave ground. 

“Will you two please act like adults,” the captain firmly suggested. He did not look happy. 

The lieutenants did not move. The captain grunted and then both hesitantly stepped back. 

“Lieutenant Sylvester, you do have an odd opinion of your own self-importance. I am not defending your desire to win by any means but you will need to find another venue.” Hildebrandt glanced at Kurt. “Mr. Hummel’s singing with this Mr. Anderson was amazing. I was moved by it. You did a wonderful job Mr. Hummel and I would be in the front row if you and Mr. Anderson are allowed to actually sing together.”

“Actually?” Kurt looked stunned. What did that mean? 

“Yeah, we’re going to space the little bastard.” Sylvester’s blurt out. Her chin crunched up into folds of wrinkles. 

“What!” Kurt screamed and then stomped toward Wacky Sue with rage in his eyes.

Catching the teen in his strong arms. Jake pulled him close. “Kurt, focus. She’s being an ass.”

Pushing his chair back, Captain Degras rose to his feet. Glaring at Lieutenant Sylvester he growled. “Consider yourself on notice Lieutenant.”

Making a face, Sylvester pulled back. Folding her arms across her chest, she glared at the captain with a hint of fear in her eyes.

The captain’s eyebrows went up and then he quietly said, “Please go on, doctor.”

Nodding, Hildebrandt tapped the enter key. “Mr. Hummel, while we are certain you are not infected and are quite human, we were not certain about Mr. Anderson.” 

“He’s human!” Kurt bluntly stated.

“All the tests . . .” The doctor stopped when a high pitched tone interrupted.

Kurt pulled himself from Jake’s grip. “Tests?”

“Kurt, save it for the moment.” Jake softly advised.

The slender teen gave the mechanic a look and then sighed. 

Placing two fingers against Kurt’s chest over his heart, Jake softly said, “I know what this is telling you Kurt.”

Kurt looked surprised.

Jake sort of smiled. “You father would have known if he were here and like your father, I can see the affection in your eyes.” 

Kurt held his breath. Invoking his father hurt but it also brought calm. All that beating about the bush and trying to hide his true feelings and Jake knew all the time. Of course he would know. Any good parent would.

“Lieutenant Sylvester has a point but not in the way she would think.” Hildebrandt went on after allowing Jake and Kurt their moment. 

Wacky Sue smirked triumphantly at Lieutenant Schuester and Jake.

The large screen on the wall had split into six equal sizes. Data scrolled down the two on the left and the ones in the center revealed images of Kurt. One showed him in the Limabean on the night he sang and the other had him standing on stage during the first invitational. The doctor said, “Now, this is not going to make a lot of sense to most of you. I barely understand it myself but the evidence is there. We first detected the anomaly . . .” 

“Anomaly?” Kurt gasped.

“Yes, anomaly, but if you like, Mr. Anderson. You were with Crewman Tanner in Sub-lieutenant Owen’s office.” The scientist pointed at upper of screen revealing the data. “This spike here represents the presence of a fourth lifeform. The monitoring of Kurt validated the internal sensor reading.”

Kurt blurt out. “You used me?” 

“In a manner of speaking, yes, Mr. Hummel. You do understand we had no idea what was happening or what threat there was to this ship and its passengers.” Hildebrandt had on hand on his hip. 

The smacking of lips came from Lieutenant Sylvester’s direction. 

The smirk on her face made Kurt cringe. Holding his tongue Kurt bowed his head. Anger touched him but then he considered the facts. He could not argue with the doctor’s assessment but he did not have to like it.

Inching closer to Kurt, Tina knocked her shoulder into his in a friendly, playful way. Kurt grinned and shrugged. She might be a bitch at times but underneath Tina had a kind heart. On the other hand, Puckerman just stood there scowling.

“We did all sorts of tests and scans on Mr. Hummel and found nothing abnormal.” Hildebrandt glance at the object of the experimentation. “Sorry Mr. Hummel, I hope you understand.”

Hesitating, Kurt nodded. “I believe I do.”

“Thank you, young man. Your honesty is refreshing.” Hildebrandt glanced at Lieutenant Sylvester and then pointed at the data scream on bottom left screen. “A couple of weeks before we got a signal from the Porpoise telling us of strange readings they were detecting from the hold housing our guests. We asked them to investigate and Mr. Anderson turned out to be the most reasonable person.”

Sylvester straightened up “You’ve spoken to him?” 

“Yes, on time delay at first but as the Porpoise got closer live. He is the interpreter for our guests.” Hildebrandt looked to Kurt and smiled. “He described you accurately Mr. Hummel.”

The jaw dropped as Kurt drew in a deep, laboured breath. How? “But I never met him.” 

Again, someone pressed flesh against his. Tina peered at Kurt with an awkward smile. Her eyes however looked a bit wild. 

The doctor watched the two teens interact and then responded. “No, you haven’t, at least in the flesh. I don’t know how he did it but he has been reaching out to you.”

“I know.” Kurt admitted.

“All the reason to . . .” Lieutenant Sylvester suddenly shut her mouth.

Anger flashed on Kurt’s face and he started to move.

The doctor cleared his throat. “Mr. Hummel!” 

Shocked, Kurt stopped and glanced at the scientist. Pulling in his lower lip, he did not look happy. Tina distracted him by bumping into him again. 

Hildebrandt grinned. “You will also be happy to know the tests the doctor on the Porpoise put Mr. Anderson bears up your most precise prognosis. So, Lieutenant Sylvester, I can confirm beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mr. Anderson is indeed very human. Sorry to disappoint you.”

Making a face, Wacky Sue rolled her eyes and pushed her lips out. 

The doctor explained. “The captain, the other Foundation members and I knew of Mr. Anderson’s presence when the survey made their third report. It would appear we’re not the first humans to visit our new home.”

“What?” Schuester eyes went to Pillsbury who grinned. 

At the same time Sylvester yelped. “Balderdash!” 

Three teens stared at one another. Tina and Puckerman gazed back with blank stares but for Kurt it made perfect sense. For the past few months the impulses got stronger as if Blaine somehow got closer to him. The stories Blaine could tell.

“Later, lieutenants. There will be a staff meeting after we get this all settled.” The captain winked at the Hildebrandt. “Please, doctor go on.”

“I thought of these two things as separate matters until I ran the information from the Porpoise through the computer and two and two became four.” The scientist taped the screen and the darkness beside the images of Kurt revealed images of a place the teens knew nothing of. The camera angle pointed down into a large open space filled with dirt, plants with a four crude huts. Twelve aliens sat on blankets in a circle. The teens recognized three of the alien species but the fourth appeared to be a furry ball maybe two feet in diameter. Two long, tufted ears pushed up through the thick brown, black and tan hair. Three worm like appendages extended out from the fur, two from what may be the head and one from the rear. No legs could be seen. A different coloured crystal hung from the necks or antenna of each alien.

Kurt’s chest almost detonated. In the center of the circle sat a kid who looked to be about fifteen years of age. The handsome boy wore clothing similar to what he liked. The yellow pants hugged his legs revealing thick thighs and rounded calves. The dark green shirt covering his torso had to be pulled over his head because it only three buttons close to the neck. The bright blue and red bowtie made him look so adorably cute. 

A single hushed word escaped Kurt’s throat. “Blaine?”

“Yes, Mr. Anderson.” Hildebrandt nodded and then typed something. 

The four images moved and the counter revealed the date and time at the bottom. In two Kurt sang and in the other two Blaine did the same. Kurt took a step forward and received no resistance from Jake who let his arm drop. Blue eyes shown bright as did Kurt’s face. Deep emotion revealed itself. On the screen the voices harmonized as they had before bringing a smile to almost everyone’s face. A tear ran down Kurt’s cheek as he fought back the desire to sing.

Tapping the screen Hildebrandt smiled at Kurt with understanding warmth. “Mr. Hummel and Mr. Anderson are mated.”

Sylvester almost tripped over her feet even though she stood still. “What?”

Two teens almost fell over themselves but Kurt remained perfectly still. The truth released gritty emotions allowing tensions to fade.

“The look on Mr. Hummel’s face and the manner in which Mr. Anderson is putting emotion into his song tells me these two are in love. Beside it was obvious in the way Mr. Anderson described Mr. Hummel” Hildebrandt pushed his lips out and tapped his wrist. “The monitor had your fermions all over the map, Mr. Hummel. It happens to lovers.”

Knocking a fist against the boy next to her, Tina gave Kurt a subtle wink and a little impish smiles. Kurt could only image the look on Puckerman’s face.

“Oh, what a bunch of boiled bird droppings.” Sylvester shook her head and began to pace. Her eyes remained locked on the scientist. “You’re an intelligent man and now you turn into some feather brained gushy romantic.”

Not really surprised Jake knelt before Kurt. “Is this true?”

“Yes.” Pride boomed in Kurt’s voice. “We’ve even had sex.”

Sex. The thought made Kurt hot and cold at the same time. The words echoed through his mind as the breeze in the air lock rustled across find stubble on his cheek. Above the door the clock read eleven minutes and two seconds. Kurt could not be any more excited or fearful. The unknown dwelt on the other side of the thick door. Meeting Blaine fueled his desire but he had no idea what to think of what they called guests. The sight of them made him weak all over. 

Drawing in a breath Kurt tried to keep his fear under control. The vibrations of his soul told him destiny waited for him but getting to this point had not been easy. The discussion in the captain’s office went on for almost two hours. Jake pleaded with the teen not to do this but relented when Kurt made a powerfully emotional appeal. The deadlocked officers looked to Jake for the final judgment and when it came Lieutenant Sylvester exploded. The dice had been cast and the captain let the vote stand. Soon after Captain Degras called a general assembly and made the most amazing announcement to the passengers of the Arc. The images created an uproar and a rush to view the visitors. Kurt’s reality had not been part of that discussion. 

They all came and crowded around him. The sight of Jake, all his friends, Mr. Shu and even Pillsbury comforted Kurt. The look on Jake’s face made the teen want to sob. He hated doing this but then Jake said he understood. The past haunted the mechanic. Years ago Jake loved someone and circumstance forced them to separate. They tried to keep it going but time played angry games. Difficult best described it. Shedding a tear the big man hugged Kurt and admitted he would miss the kid.

Slow beads of moisture rolled down Kurt’s cheeks. Regardless of all the ups and downs he now knew living the in the past would solved nothing. With no idea what he would do following his heart became the best road. Those dreams and invisible caresses had been the most real thing he had experienced in short life. He felt as if he left home and the look in Jake’s eyes hurt. 

Standing in a cluster before the airlock, Brittany stood almost on top of Santana. Kurt noticed their hands pressed against one another now and then. Tina and Mike stood with Artie who had finally decided to bite the bullet and walk again. Puckerman tried to move off to one side but Laruen kept him from running away. He felt guilty and Kurt knew it. Sam stood next to Jake looking adorably sad while Schuester and Pillsbury close by. Finn wrapped his arms around Rachel who seemed more than a little upset. 

Letting out a sigh, Kurt turned to Jake. The mechanic looked back with admiring eyes. Throwing his arms about the man, Kurt whispered, “I’ll be alright.”

“I know but . . .” Jake swallowed hard fell silent. His eyes said everything.

Sam patted Jake on the shoulder. “It’s not like he is going to the Saturn.”

“I will only be on the other side of that door and I have this,” Kurt pointed at the strap on his arm. “The communicator is in my bag and you can watch the feeds.”

The big mechanic sighed. “I had a son once and he died but now I can say I have a new son who is about to become a man. I am so proud of you Kurt.”

The two hugged again. Several of the girls sniffled.

“So that’s your book in there?” Brittany suddenly said with the sweetest little smile. Water filled her eyes. 

A furrowed brow answered and then Kurt looked to Santana who shrugged.

“Blaine?” Brittany sounded a tad angry.

“I guess so, Brit.” Kurt lowered his head. “Sorry I led you along but I had no idea how to explain. Honestly I didn’t fully believe it until Blaine scared me shitless.”

“That was that smell?” Puckerman joked.

Lauren slapped Puckerman in the arm. “I don’t get this Kurt but somehow I feel as if this is the right thing to do.”

“What do you meant right?” Rachel blurted out. “We have to sing tomorrow night and now we’re one man short. We’ll lose by default.”

“Rachel?” Finn softly chastised. “Your being selfish, Kurt needs to do this.” 

“It’s stupid. He should be with us.” Rachel pulled away from her unrecognized boyfriend giving him the ugliest stare. “We’ve all worked on this together to do something really great and . . .”

Holding up a hand, Lieutenant Schuester cut Rachel off. “It’s not the end Rachel but why not look at it as an opportunity. Now the New Directions will have thirteen.”

“What?” Rachel spun toward their teacher and sponsor.

“Here him out, dear,” Finn cautioned. The jock glanced at the officer. “You mean, Blaine?”

The feisty brunette gave the jock a disintegrating look and he did not back away.

“Yes, Mr. Blaine Anderson.” Mr. Shu looked toward the boy with a large bag at his feet. “That’s if Kurt could talk him into it.” 

One of Kurt’s eyebrows went up. “They’ll never allow it?”

“On the contrary they will,” Sub-lieutenant Pillsbury stated. “Lieutenant Sylvester was greatly disappointed when Captain Degras said you could still compete.”

Lieutenant Schuester added. “But only if Blaine will agree.” 

“I can ask, but why would he?” Shaking his head, Kurt looked puzzled.

Sam’s hand fell on Kurt’s chest. “The heart is stronger than any of us suspect.”

Sniffling back a tear, Jake smiled. “I’m still having trouble wrapping my head about all this connection stuff, but I’m jealous. You’re so lucky Kurt,”

Kurt flew into Jake’s arms again and buried his head into the man’s shoulder. Sam and then others patted Kurt on the back. Brittany and Tina openly cried. Other wiped their eyes.

“It’s wonderful,” Brittany clapped as he snuffled. “It’s like two puppies getting to play.”

Wiping her eyes, Santana stared at Brittany. “What?”

“The two of them have been like puppies bouncing about one another for months,” Brittany added.

Glancing over Jakes shoulder Kurt gave the odd blond a strange look. “Brittany, I love you but sometimes you’re a bit weird.” 

“I like you too Kurt but Blaine and you have been dancing around one another for too long.” Brittany stated in the most innocent and forthright manner. “He’s so cute. The two of you are so endearing you make me smile.”

Mike opened his mouth but no words came out. Shaking his head and letting out a puff of air he finally said, “You’ve really seen this Blaine?”

Brittany looked surprised. “Yeah, haven’t you?”

“No?” Mike drew out the single word. 

“Oh,” Brittany shrugged, “pity. He’s really handsome.”

Pillsbury’s head went sideways but before she could say anything, Mercedes broke her sad silence. “Dreams?”

“Dreams?” Puckerman almost laughed.

“Yes, dreams.” Sam nodded and stepped closer to Mercedes. “Maybe there’s truth to it.”

“You have got to be joking,” Quinn protested. “Lightning strike you down for saying such things.”

“It make sense.” Finn said.

Everyone looked at the jock. 

Sheepishly Finn admitted. “I don’t know how to describe it but it has always felt as if I have known all of you.” 

“Blasphemy,” Quinn whispered.

Turning around Rachel stared up at Finn. To everyone’s surprise the jock pressed his lips into Rachel’s catching her off guard. The girl pushed back and then fell into him.

Rolling her eyes and turning away, Santana groaned, “I’m going to puke.”

Dear, irritating Santana she always knew how to make a point. Kurt smiled and gazed at the clock—fourteen minutes fifty one seconds.


	22. Teenage Dream

The humidity instantly stuck Kurt’s clothing to his skin. Making a face he pulled at his layered garments to create a breeze across his chest while he fanned his face with his other hand. A tiny bead of sweat rolled down his back. The sensation made him cringe.

Continuing to fluff the fabric, Kurt wiggled his nose. The fragrance reminded him of wet streets and garbage piles after one of the heavy, monthly rain storms back home. His eyes narrowed and he sniffed at the air. The subtle hint of sweetness intrigued him. An eyebrow went up and then he looked the surrounding environment. Thick, tall trees stood all about him leaving him wondering. The long branches looked like pine or fir but with blades which started out flat and wide at the stem and then thinned out into sharp needles. The green-brown trunks looked similar to trees he has seen before. Hints of purple and yellow etched strange lines into the gnarled and dense bark. Robust, low bushes hugged the ground obscuring large roots. Vibrantly coloured moss and vines climbed up the fake rocks around the airlock.

The interior of the central hold appeared so different from this side of the wall. Peering in through the one way windows revealed little of what actually lived there. It amazed Kurt to see the degree to what the vegetation had taken over. The plants looked so small when they started putting then into the ground. Five weeks ago, when he had last been here to work on the water system with Jake and two others, the vegetation looked sickly. What happened to create such sudden change? Kurt never pretended he knew anything about botany, thus he shrugged.

Blue eyes slowly panned the thick forest. The walls behind him looked like rock but the boy knew it to be fake. The sky overhead mirrored the spinning of the ship like it did in the rest of the landers. Seen through the leafy canopy it appeared blue with a purple hue to it. At the apex of some of the trees large leaves spread out like umbrellas. Everything looked incredibly lush and very different.

A short burst of a something like squeaking shocked the mesmerized teen. Looking to his left he spotted something like a long and colourful flying insect buzzing one of the shrubs. Hovering on six bright red and yellow wings it darted off and the came back a second later. Suddenly a nearby branch moved and the bug vanished. Above the boy a bird, well it looked like a bird, landed and cocked its head to one side as if studying Kurt. Leathery brown skin covered the breast and head of the small banana shaped creature. Colourful feathers coated its back, wings and tail.

Staring at the bird Kurt smiled. As strange as it appeared Kurt found himself hypnotized by its unique beauty. Puffing itself up and spreading its wings wide it started to sing. Brilliantly high pitched warbles echoed out into the trees. Somewhere in the distance came a reply. Seconds later the bird rose up into the air and disappeared into the foliage.

Pulling at his clothes, Kurt found relief for his chest but none for his back. Sweat soaked his shirt and he sighed. He should not have worn the damned sweater but then he did not want to take it off. He strategically selected from his extensive wardrobe. He wanted to impress.

The bag hanging over his shoulder slipped down his arm. Catching it, Kurt turned and caught sight of the door. Suddenly he felt lonely. By now everyone who he called friend probably positioned themselves by the observation windows to watch. Knowing they cared made this all the much easier and warm inside. On the flip side of the coin, the thought of having an audience had not even crossed him mind. What if Blaine and he fought? Talk about embarrassment. If they ripped their clothes off, even greater embarrassment. Either way Santana would never let it go. Regardless, he found he could not hold back a fond smile. What a first?

Three beads of sweat rolled own his spine. A flicker of yuck quivered through his torso and Kurt frowned. His eyes rolling up toward the leafy canopy and his look of disappointment brightened with the return of his previous line of thought. Having them all there made him feel comforted, especially Jake. They hugged less than half an hour ago and the fact he missed the jolly mechanic gave Kurt moment of pause. It had been a long time since an adult has treated him with such tenderness. One of the monks at the farm took a shining to him but not quite in the same way. Now that he knew better, Kurt realized the older fellow may have wanted something more than friendship. Nonetheless, for the first time in his life, he felt he had people standing behind him who would stick by him when things got rough.

Glancing over his shoulder at the bulkhead door, Kurt let out an apprehensive sigh. With every intake of air a vigorous tug within caressed his chest. It frightened him. All his life fear had controlled him. At home with his parents he always felt safe elsewhere the taunts of others ripped at his self-respect. The pitch of his voice had always been the crux of his problems. While the constant harassment made him stronger he did not really embrace it until an apparition blew warm, coffee smelling breath across his cheek.

Turning around on the spot an abrupt thought brought him to a halt. For months now those odd visions kept him going and prevented dark thoughts from consuming his spirit. Breathing in a couple of deep, succulent breaths Kurt’s forehead furrowed. He needed to turn his brain off. Everything felt fine for a moment and then it would turn upside down. The longer he procrastinated the worse it got. He needed to get his nerve up and staring at the door proved counterproductive.

Looking down at his feet he pulled in his lips. Snorting, he caught a whiff of something on the artificially generated breeze. It smelt sugary and mixed with a hint of smoke. Once more he glanced about and this time she spotted what looked like a path pressing into the dense growth. Brown soil and flat rock mixed with sparsely growing grass weaved between the trees.

An eyebrow went up. He did not remember seeing it before. Adjusting his bag, Kurt began to walk. Each footstep felt like a surreal moment of undisputable pleasure. The further he went the more light hearted he became. A hand reached out and touched a large flat leaf leaving goose bumps boiling on his skin.

Water dripped down from above striking him on the side of the head. Kurt glanced up. The leaves sweated just like the icky moisture rolling down his back. Grasping the sweater by two buttons he fluffed it again. At the same time he glanced down at the buttons of his cardigan. People did not wear clothing like this these days but Blaine did. The teen thoughtfully grinned.

Propped up by the titillating thought of what waited form him at the end of the path, Kurt quietly gave into the pleasure of song.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZTWSe7Je0gA)

_Something has changed within me_   
_Something is not the same_   
_I'm through with playing by the rules_   
_Of someone else's game_   
_Too late for second-guessing_   
_Too late to go back to sleep_   
_It's time to trust my instincts_   
_Close my eyes... and leap!_

_It's time to try_   
_Defying gravity_   
_I think I'll try_   
_Defying gravity_   
_Kiss me goodbye_   
_I am defying gravity_   
_And you won’t bring me down!_

_I'm through accepting limits_   
_'cause someone says they're so_   
_Some things I cannot change_   
_But till I try, I'll never know!_   
_Too long I've been afraid of_   
_Losing love I guess I've lost_   
_Well, if that's love_   
_It comes at much too high a cost!_

_I'd sooner buy_   
_Defying gravity_   
_Kiss me goodbye_   
_I'm defying gravity_   
_I think I'll try_   
_Defying gravity_   
_And you won’t bring me down!_

_I'd sooner buy_   
_Defying gravity_   
_Kiss me goodbye_   
_I'm defying gravity_   
_I think I'll try_   
_Defying gravity_   
_And you won't bring me down!_   
_bring me down!_   
_ohh ohhh ohhhh!_

From the first word to the last his skin tingled in a manner Kurt struggled to understand. At first it felt like ants walking over him but as the strength of the music grew so did that abnormal sense of electric impulses firing from the top of his head to his feet. The peculiar sensation swayed with the notes and in turn his footsteps. At one point he found himself skipping along the narrow path. It left him feeling at ease.  
He loved the song. The ancient musical Wicked lived in his private files along with a few other works from that period. He liked live performance but he had a number of old movies and what they called television shows. Electronic books made up most of his collection along with fashion magazines and thousands of copies of digitized music scores. The Arc central computer had a vast historical collection and he spent many a spare hour exploring.

Rustling leaves became his companion until glistening water came into view through the trees. An abrupt halt resulted in a sudden wallop of fear exploding within his chest. Four crude structures sat across a sheet of sparkling liquid. Regardless of the—my god, I made it—moment, his dream of meeting a boy with dark curly hair and the most gorgeous eyes recoiled. The idea of those ugly things lingering somewhere unnerved him. Bile rose in his throat. Anxiety won causing Kurt to take a step backward. Panting, a flash of pain cascaded through his heart and stopped him from bolting. Wild blue eyes scanned the path ahead and behind where the trees seemed to close about him. Ahead of him the huts appeared to draw closer.

For a moment bubbling panic threatened to end Kurt’s bravery. Unconsciously his right hand curled up into a tight ball while the fingers of his left spread out. Sweat rolling down the side of his face from the hairline and suddenly his ribcage suddenly pushed out. No, he had not come this far to fail. Blaine waited for him and the privilege of seeing him for just a minute made a heart attack well worth it.

Studying the primitive camp his eyes darted this way and that. They, he, had to know Kurt approached. The actions of the tall skinny thing made Kurt consider it to be intelligent. What if he had assessed wrong. Animals would have smelt him by now. Could they be stalking him right now? No, something that big would be heard.

Blaine? Why had he not made an appearance? Again courage waned but then he caught the hint of something. It sounded like a high pitched ping. Instinctively Kurt’s leaned further as if seeking more. Other than rustling leaves, silence lingered for a long moment and then a second note reverberated through the trees. Suddenly Kurt jumped back causing his bag to slip from his shoulder and fall to the ground. Bright colours flashed before him when one of those bird like things flipped into the air.

A bird? A damned bird. Kurt looked down to his feet and started to laugh. He felt stupid. Pulling his lips in, he shook his head and smiled. He could do this. Drawing himself up straight he slung his bag over his shoulder and started to walk. His right foot dragged but he did not let what it represented hold him back. Breaking out of the forest into the clearing reluctance gripped him once more. Decelerating, he glanced about and then slid to a halt. Something he recognized from Lieutenant Schuester’s class echoed across the water. Heat rose in his chest as his heart expanded to twice its size. Kurt’s chin began to quiver—a piano!

“I, um I want to sing a song that's very special to me,” a richly emotional voice called out in perfect English from somewhere ahead. “This is a song that I sang the first time I ever met the love of my life. Um, so, Kurt, this is for you."

Musical keys echoed from the nearest hut along with a heavenly and strangely passionate voice.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8PX2_9LNa2E&list=RD8PX2_9LNa2E#t=10)

_You think I'm pretty_   
_Without any makeup on_   
_You think I'm funny_   
_When I tell the punchline wrong_   
_I know you get me_   
_So I let my walls come down, down_

_Before you met me_   
_I was alright but things_   
_Were kinda heavy_   
_You brought me to life_   
_Now every February_   
_You'll be my Valentine, Valentine_

_Let's go all the way tonight_   
_No regrets, just love_   
_We can dance, until we die_   
_You and I, will be young forever_

_You make me feel_   
_Like I'm livin' a_   
_Teenage dream_   
_The way you turn me on_   
_I can't sleep_   
_Let's run away and_   
_Don't ever look back_   
_Don't ever look back_

_My heart stops_   
_When you look at me_   
_Just one touch_   
_Now baby I believe_   
_This is real_   
_So take a chance and_   
_Don't ever look back_   
_Don't ever look back_

_We drove to Cali_   
_And got drunk on the beach_   
_Got a motel and_   
_Built a fort out of sheets_   
_I finally found you_   
_My missing puzzle piece_   
_I'm complete_

_Let's go all the way tonight_   
_No regrets, just love_   
_We can dance, until we die_   
_You and I, will be young forever_

_Cause you make me feel_   
_Like I'm livin' a_   
_Teenage dream_   
_The way you turn me on_   
_I can't sleep_   
_Let's run away and_   
_Don't ever look back_   
_Don't ever look back_

_My heart stops_   
_When you look at me_   
_Just one touch_   
_Now baby I believe_   
_This is real_   
_So take a chance and_   
_Don't ever look back_   
_Don't ever look_

_I'm a get your heart racing_   
_In my skin-tight jeans_   
_Be your teenage dream tonight_   
_Let you put your hands on me_   
_In my skin-tight jeans_   
_Be your teenage dream tonight_

_You make me_   
_Feel like a teenage dream_   
_The way you turn me on_   
_I can't sleep_   
_Let's run away and_   
_Don't ever look back_   
_Don't ever look back_

_My heart stops_   
_When you look at me_   
_Just one touch_   
_Now baby I believe_   
_This is real_   
_So don't ever look back, no!_

_I'm a get your heart racing_   
_In my skin-tight jeans_   
_Be your teenage dream tonight_   
_Let you put your hands on me_   
_In my skin-tight jeans_   
_Be your teenage dream tonight_

The last chord echoed away leaving utter silence. Even the leaves remained still as if waiting for something to happen. Peering over the edge of the instrument he sat behind, Blaine’s fingers lightly rested on stained white keys. Sparkling amber-brown eyes locked on a shimmering hallow of blue-gray. The pounding of the pulse in his wrists echoed in his ears and a bead of sweat ran down his temple. The most beautiful sight in all creation stood there staring back at him with the most attractive look on his face.

Blaine literally vibrated as he struggled to catch his breath. Wow, he had never expected his wish to really come true. Until a few hours ago he had been wondering why he walked through a transplanted forest following his tall friend. Then he sensed blue and he almost peed himself. Yanking of his heart he looked to the left. All of sudden part of wall shimmered and seemed to dissolve away allowing him to see beyond the barrier holding him inside. There, standing between a girl and another boy stood . . . he fainted.

He recalled his tall, boney friend pressing chewed leaves under his nose. The putrid smell caused Blaine to bolt upright. Making a face, his eyes screwed up. An abrupt roar rushed through his ears as the blood pumping through his body tripled. All his life a vision of a peacefully slumber young man haunted his dreams. When he developed enough to utter his first word it turned out to be a simple name—Kurt. His father took little note but his mother had. As his grasp of language became more imbedded his words caught the attention of others. Out in a forest, which scarcely represented the real thing, his benefactors patiently awaited the outcome of years of hard work.

Eyes fluttered and childhood hungers swirled back into reality leaving him awestruck. The peripheral of Blaine’s vision faded into mist with only one thing being clear. The false world around him meant nothing. The speck of light the planet of his birth circled paled from memory. Time stood still and the cosmos quivered in anticipation. A tear slowly rolled down his cheek. It hung there for a split second and then fell to his chest leaving a long wet mark.

Consumed by those blue eyes Blaine gazed at a long lost best friend. Unable to pull himself away from the beautiful teen, he noted his clothes, the sharpness of his nose and a perfect head of hair. Lean but muscular Kurt . . . yes . . . finally . . . Kurt enthralled. Blaine’s head slowly angled toward his right shoulder. Those shoes, how perfect.

An abrupt blink shuffled sentiment and spread out the water coating his eyes. Expelling the contents of his lunges he had been holding for what felt like an eternity he slumped ever so slightly. Sweet, tender eyes stared and then the right side of his face curled up into a one side smirk.

One sexy motion of the mouth and Kurt’s body almost puddled around him. Night after night he delighted in the sight of a one sided grin. Seeing it now released an effervescing mass of unknown sentiment. This swirling emotion prevented Kurt from drawing on coherent thought. A phantom sat before him as if he had risen up out of the piano. In little flashes of distant reality Kurt saw two boys staring at one another in a hall or sitting close together holding hand. Breaking up twice before finally marrying, they created successful careers and raised twins. In their nineties, and after decades of happiness, they passed away within a half hour of one another.

Somewhere within the tangle of Kurt’s sentiment and thought, Blaine crooned the same lyrics. The words came out with a meaning that moved Kurt in ways he could not comprehend at the moment. Emotion flowed in both renditions but the second captured the real truth. In that instance the stanzas reflected an unfathomable affection and undying faith. In the present and no matter who he rationalized it, Kurt could not help but note the exuberant passion in Blaine’s watery eyes. Beautiful or gorgeous could not describe the sexy boy he watched. He sat there like a smothering Adonis waiting to be worshipped and Kurt wanted to pray. Kurt released a childish giggle. Blaine’s chuckle created an overwhelming sensation of safety.

The charming, wavy haired boy leaned further away from the instrument as if seeking a better view. His fluffy eyebrows went up. Deliberately slow, Blaine pushed the piano stool back and it skidded across the wood it rested upon. Grinning from ear to ear his body shifted as he stepped around the device.

Sexy motion caused Kurt to wobble. Righting himself, the smile on his face crinkled about his eyes. A demigod in tight dark green pants wearing early twentieth centuries deck shoes, no socks, a bright yellow pull over shirt with a the cutest red bow tie just stood there. The hut faded away leaving a few small impressions. A thick trunk of wood pressed up from the center of the chamber holding the roof up. The length of rope stretched from the back wall and looped around the center pole ended up being tied off beside the arched doorway. Small weaved rings held up long lengths of dense cloth sealing off the other side of the hut.

Beside the piano sat a squat round table with a beautiful croquette doily beneath an ornate picture frame, a tarnished silver hair brush and a small leather book with a golden ring on top of it. Immortalized forever in old styled photograph, two adults in their late thirties stood side by side with a nine year old boy between them. Backed by a breathtaking landscape of water and snowcapped mountains, the sky had purple tint to its blueness. The stunning woman with long, wavy, brunette hair smiled warmly. The oriental gentleman proudly rested a hand on his son’s shoulder. The boy with a large mop of curly hair looked so adorable.

Warm pain flickered in Kurt’s chest and he drew in a shaky breath. The mini-computer in his bag held a similar image. Burt held a five year old in his arms while his mother stared at both of them with miraculous love. Swallowing, a wave of unbelievable sentimentality washed over Kurt. Salty water welled up in his eyes and then rolled down his cheek. He missed them so much.

Catching his breath, Blaine’s chest squeezed at the sight. Those streaks of moisture ripped at him. Did Kurt want to run? Could he be that happy? Or . . . Blaine did not want to think about it.

In response, a tears glistened in the corner of Blaine’s eye as a wave of sadness rolled over him. Those pretty blue eyes enriched him and in the instant all he wanted to do involved enveloping the darling teen in his arms. Seeing the streams on Kurt’s cheeks almost killed Blaine. A foot involuntarily shifted forward as a hand came up.

Kurt’s Adam’s apple shifted at the same time as Blaine’s. In his mind Kurt reached out and compassed the boy with all the tenderness he could muster. The dejected, worried look on Blaine’s attractive face demanded as much but the best he could muster involved mirroring a fateful footstep.

A sudden intake of air from both and they froze in place. Neither of them made another move except for the tiny motions of the eyes. Blue locked on hazel and amber-brown brown on sparkling azure. Glistening water rimmed their gloriously bright orbs and when one blinked. The depth of the moment broke, the other did as well. Passion articulated itself in the simple workings of the body—tears, smirks, sad looks and overwhelming longing.

Passion rooted them in place for several long, wonderful ticks of an imaginary cloak. Irreversibly, fate took hold of Blaine and he took a single step closer. Thick lips curled up as his expression revealed a fondness Blaine did not know how to express in words. Hazel stuck to blue making him remember childhood dreams. Growing up he always had to wear something blue. At a young age he managed to find something to dye his hair but then it all fell out. Above his bed he suspended a small white ball painted with a blue circle to resemble the eye he constantly saw. Now the desire of his life stood just out of reach like a mirror peering into his soul.

The bag slipped from Kurt’s shoulder and hit the wood floor with a thud. At the same time, the right foot slide forward one pace forcing the body to follow. The humid breeze passing through the crude arch felt good but not as virtuous as the sight before him. Aroused, but in no way stiff, what Kurt felt went beyond the physical. Every inch of Blaine looked impeccable. No, beyond impeccable. Kurt counted every lash and memorized the way his medium length fussy hair rolled this way and that. The slightest hint of five o’clock shadow made Kurt drool but what he saw inside paralyzed.

A deck shoe lifted and Blaine took another step. When the other lightly landed beside the first, Blaine let out a soft puff of air. Goose bumps ran up his back making him light headed. Eyes locked on the object of adulterant yearning and his knees went weak. The reflection of the other boy’s humanity revealed things he had never imagined. In his mind Blaine saw two teenagers lounging on towels beside a slow moving and heavily forested river. One of them soaked up the sun while the other sat beneath large umbrella. The darker skinned boy looked up at the other with love in his eyes. Peeking past the magazine he read Kurt seductively winked.

In the here and now the right side of the Blaine’s face lifted up tailed by the rest of the mouth followed.

That look. Blood rushed in Kurt’s ears causing him to blush. For weeks he had been worrying about this moment and what would come of it. Thoughts of messy, horny sex had filled his fantasies but reality turned out to be an easy going sensually erotic affair. In the captain’s office he fretted. Then his emotions ran hot and cold along with the expansion and contraction in his pants. Now all that excitement drained away to be replaced by a sexy sensation Kurt did not comprehend.

Trembling nerves eased Kurt’s foot forward. The other had no choice to follow. Across from him Blaine matched the step creating a subtle and erogenous dance of intimacy that ended when they stood about a foot apart. Both boys held their breath and exhaled at the same moment. Kurt smelt familiar coffee. Goose bumps rolled along Blaine’s arms as he drew in the subtle hint of mint. Bellowing sentiment filled the space between them leaving a certain tension lingering in the air.

The light outside slowly shifted as the lander’s inner hold edged into night mode. Neither boy cared. Minutes seemed like hours as they read everything each other’s eyes could reveal. Love mixed with hints of trepidation to become reflected in each other eyes. Chests and stomachs rose and fell as the smoky moment edged on. Kurt’s alabaster skin brightened with a low blush and Blaine could not stop himself from grinning.

Inhibitions held until Blaine let out a long breath. Slowly, the curly headed boy reached up and pulled at the bow tie about his neck. The hand tied fabric effortlessly slithered out from under the collar of his pull over shirt. The accessary hovered there for a long second before gravity slowly hauled it the last inch. It floated to the floor with twisting lightness.

Kurt swallowed and his chest inflated to its fullest and apprehension withered. Wide eyes noted every motion without looking away from the beautiful globes across from him. Shining amber-brown greeted him and his heart halted for single beat. Naturally tinted fingers hovering just below Blaine’s chin for a brief half moment. Slowly the curly headed teen undid the three buttons loosening the collar.

Kurt’s mouth fell open when he gasped. The faintest hint of fine dark hair just below the nap of Blaine’s neck aroused. Supple, shaking fingers pressed large buttons through knitted fabric. Kurt’s cardigan shifted from his shoulder and tumbled to the floor.

Trembling, Blaine tugged his shirt over his head. A blue crystal on a gold chain flopped onto his chest a few of inches below his Adam’s apple. Holding his arm out straight he watched the depth of Kurt’s gaze. Eventually the garment slipped from his fingers.

Several buttons popped through colourful fabric and then the soft cloth slid from Kurt’s shoulders. Effortlessly cascaded down to the floor the gentle breeze caused it to coil in upon itself.

A pregnant pause filled with seductive looks faded when Blaine’s legs moved as one shoe came off after another other. Bare feet touched dusty wood.

Kurt slipped off his footwear. Toes wiggled within brown and light green socks.

The pressure about Blaine’s waist released itself in an exotically slow. Shucked his pants past his ankles the garment dangled on Blaine’s right foot. He nonchalantly kicking them to one side.

With casual disregard both hands reached for Kurt’s zipper. Down it went and with a quick snap he pushed his pants off each leg taking his socks with him.

Standing in colourful undergarments of different designs, flashes of motion gave provocative hints of the other’s body might offer. Yet, for the duration of their contortions blue and hazel never separated. Outside it got darker, but around them, tiny crystals brightened providing a dull yellow radiance. Casting shadows across the floor and up onto the walls they had an audience which would never have an opinion.

Neither moved for the longest time as they drunk from measure of their souls. Then Blaine drew in an unnaturally deep and provocative breath and then both boys dug into the waistband at the same time. Pushing the garments down, legs and hips moved allowing the last obstacle to their nakedness to drop to the floor. In unison they lifted their feet and pushed the articles of clothing aside. Fat penises hung down in content peacefulness.

Unable to drag themselves from the spirally galaxies of each other’s eyes, a billion sparkling colours twirled with heart filled sentiment. Giving into an undying need, Blaine began to sing. Three words later Kurt realized he knew the song and his voice married with Blaine’s.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jjnmICxvoVY Again the song is perfect. Artist Savage Garden but, please, image Kurt and Blaine singing together.)

_Maybe it's intuition_   
_But some things you just don't question_   
_Like in your eyes, I see my future in an instant_   
_And there it goes,_   
_I think I found my best friend_   
_I know that it might sound_   
_More than a little crazy_   
_But I believe_

_I knew I loved you before I met you_   
_I think I dreamed you into life_   
_I knew I loved you before I met you_   
_I have been waiting all my life_

_There's just no rhyme or reason_   
_Only the sense of completion_   
_And in your eyes, I see_   
_The missing pieces I'm searching for_   
_I think I've found my way home_   
_I know that it might sound_   
_More than a little crazy_   
_But I believe_

_I knew I loved you before I met you_   
_I think I dreamed you into life_   
_I knew I loved you before I met you_   
_I have been waiting all my life_

_A thousand angels dance around you_   
_I am complete now that I've found you_

_I knew I loved you before I met you_   
_I think I dreamed you into life_   
_I knew I loved you before I met you_   
_I have been waiting all my life_

_I knew I loved you before I met you_   
_I think I dreamed you into life_   
_I knew I loved you before I met you_   
_I have been waiting all my life_

Cooling air settled with the waning of two harmonized voices. Unmoving, other than heaving sweaty chests, their eyes remained locked. Gradually a hand rose up and hovered half way from a boy’s hairless pectoral. Another hand came up and slender, pale fingers wrapped about those with a naturally darker tone. The meeting of right and left made everything complete.


	23. Bonding

There they stood naked and vulnerable. Both could see the world in each other’s eyes and the youthful desires in developing bodies. Amazed and a little bit frightened, the soft tenderness of the moment soothed anxiety and settled pounding hearts. Each found comfort in the beautiful teen only inches away. 

Kurt’s eyes rolled up following his left hand. Lightly tracing a pattern in the soft hair of Blaine’s chest he marveled at the boy’s physique and his manly attributes. The thick, curly hair on the top of his head did not match the traces of hair Kurt now payed with. Blaine shuddered at the touch and giggled when Kurt found a sensitive spot.

Inching closer, Kurt’s feet slid to either side of Blaine’s. Stomach to stomach Kurt tingled at the touch of the fine coat of teenage hair blossoming on Blaine’s torso. The sensation of Blaine breathing caressing his shoulder and neck made him feel comforted. His right hand eased around the waist landing just above the sultry bubble of an exquisite butt. The feeling of the head of Blaine’s fat cock pressed up against his balls excited.

Quaking muscles relaxed with the shift of Kurt’s playful intentions. A right hand grasped the fingers of the left hand playing with his chest. Longing pawed at the fussy haired teen. With gentle ease Blaine leaned forward and delicately placed his lips against Kurt’s pink mouth. Their skin barely touched but it had been enough to send shivers up and down the bodies. Kurt giggled into Blaine’s mouth causing the aggressive teen to spread his lips wide into a smile. Their breaths mixed—coffee and mint.

Spiritedly Kurt pushed his tongue out and brushed it over Blaine’s moist mouth. A soft, passionate growl rolled up Blaine’s throat sounded like a cat’s purr. Blaine’s head moved back ever so slightly and then he glanced at his hand layered on Kurt’s on top his heaving chest. A tongue lashed out at the last moment and Blaine countered with his own. Both pulled back with soft snickers. Blaine blushed and Kurt bashfully looked down. Fingers pressed together as Blaine rose on his toes so that he could kiss each of Kurt’s eyelids. When their eyes met again they both drew in a breath. 

Holding Blaine’s gaze proved easier than Kurt could ever believe. Those lovely, amber-brown orbs spoke volumes. Kurt smiled and said in a quiet tone, “I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

Blaine leaned in as if trying to soak in the last moments of that voice before it finally vanished. For the majority of his life he had wanted to hear sweet words but the heart he sensed remained slow and silent. Then one day Blaine felt the stirring of it waking. He freaked and went wild with both delight and fear. Running off, his benefactors found him a couple of hours later sitting on a stump in a huge grove of ancient trees. Twelve of friends encircled Blaine and the decision would be made truth. 

“Kurt, words couldn’t describe you.” Blaine’s voice could barely be heard.

An errand finger from Kurt’s left hand tickled the fine hair on Blaine’s chest. Blaine scrunched down as if he fought gyrations racing down the length of his body. All the while Kurt handsomely smiled. 

Blaine cooed and drew in a deep breath. Releasing it, he whispered, “God’s it . . . it’s so nice to see you in the flesh . . . finally.”

Kurt sniffed and a tear glistened in the corner of his eye. “Dreams do come true.”

“I’ve been wanting to see your eyes . . . for real.” Blaine smiled brightly. “I saw them always in my dreams. They were beautiful but now . . . wow.”

Kurt hesitated—he saw my eyes? His left hand squeezed Blaine’s right as he lightly swung them into the thin crack between their thighs. Flesh lazily bumped against flesh. “Yours took my breath away.”

“It seems so silly.”

“Silly?”

“You know, everything we’ve been through.”

“At times I feared for my sanity.”

“But here we are.”

“Yes and I’m so happy.”

“So am I.”

“You look so . . . perfect.” Kurt’s other hand tickled the light hair close to the crack of Blaine’s ass.

A quake raked Blaine body. His shoulder crumpled up and his head went down as he whimpered.

Evilly grinning, Kurt teased, “You like that.”

“Yeah.” Blaine coyly moved his head from one side to the other with an impish grin on his face. Down between his legs skin stretched against the muscle of a lean thigh. Another penis pulsed in response. 

Slowly Blaine’s head turned to one side and then he rested his head on Kurt’s shoulder. Dark curly hair pushed up against Kurt’s neck and ear. Returning the gesture Kurt’s hair became entangled in Blaine’s. With right hand in left they both felt the weight of worry fade.The satisfaction of each other’s touch making their lives seem perfect.

Kurt shivered and then lightly kissed Blaine’s shoulder. At the same time the finger of his free hand splayed wide against the other man’s back. Hovering just above the skin so that the tips barely touched, he slowly pulled his hand up and down. Blaine’s body twitched.

Immersed in the moment, Blaine felt light headed. In a soft, deep voice he said, “I think that my soul knew something that my mind and body didn’t know yet.”

Two heads came up and their eyes met again. Tightening his grip no Blaine’s right hand, Kurt breathlessly whispered, “It knew that our hands were meant to hold each other fearlessly and forever which is why it’s never really felt like I‘ve been getting to know you.” 

“It’s always felt like I was remembering you from something.”

“As if every lifetime you and I have lived, we’re chosen to come back and find each other and fall in love all over again for eternity.”

“And I just feel so lucky to have found you so soon in this life time.”

“All I want to do, all I’ve ever wanted to do is to . . .”

They paused and then both said at the same time, “. . . spend my life loving you.”

Time stalled as silence fell around them as they became lost in the amazing worlds of found in their eyes. Liquid circled their glistening orbs bringing the deepest emotions to the surface. Their chest rose and fell in unison with the anticipation they both felt. Together they smiled because knowing there would be more.

Wiggling his fingers beneath Blaine’s, Kurt broke the hushed anticipation. “You said to me; so, Kurt Hummel, my soulmate, my friend, my unique love, do you want to marry me?”

“And you said; yes?” Blaine’s eyes twinkled.

Kurt’s eyes went down to the hands pressed against his thigh and his lips pulled in. Turning his left hand over, he grinned. Slowly raising his head so he could see those sweet eyes, a ‘oh god’ moment shuffled up and down his body leaving Kurt feeling numb. He had indeed said yes. Could it be true? 

“Kurt?” Blaine softly asked. Fear touched his heart. 

The boy blinked.

Drawing in a slow breath, Blaine raked a two fingers gently down the other boy’s sweaty back. They stuck here and there until the found a dry avenue where the fingers could effortlessly glide. A shiver rocked Kurt and then his eyes moved. Those blue orbs caught Blaine’s once more. Both teens laughed.

The tension broken, Blaine pulled Kurt closer again. “Do I have you with me again?”

“Uhh . . . yeah . . .” Colour returned to Kurt’s complexion.

“Oh, no, no, it’s alright, dearest,” Blaine’s voice sounded gravelly.

Dearest. A marvelously sexy word which held ramifications Kurt had not be prepared for. Any arousal he felt vanished with a suddenly flash of reality. Deep in his heart Kurt struggled to find the strength to admit to admit they had shared a life before. No, many lives before. From out of nowhere an image flashed in his head and for a second Kurt saw two men stood on a balcony. They stared out at sun soaked, lushly treed hills with their arms wrapped around one another. Shirtless but wearing the style of pant favoured in the early eighteen hundreds. One of the man had a full head of lush curly hair. If Kurt could become any paler he just did.

Fear mangled Blaine’s voice. “Kurt, please.”

“Dearest?” Kurt’s voice could barely be heard.

Nodding, Blaine whispered. “Dearest, dear, partner, lover . . . husband.”

Swallowing hard, a tear ran down his cheeks. Kurt stammered, “Hus . . . ba . . . nd.”

Blaine nodded and blushed.

Out of the blue Kurt threw himself at Blaine. Tasty lips pressed into one another and the teens slowly began to turn on the spot. Heads tilted in opposite direction as their tongue’s slipped into each other’s mouths. Down south the objects of future enjoyment engorged themselves. Stretching down between each other thighs the stiffness became uncomfortable and Blaine shifted his body. Together the firm cocks flipped up against each other’s torsos. A thread of pre-cum stretched from the tip to warm skin. 

Coming up for air once in a while, they kissed for many long minutes before slowing. Dreams melted into one another making it all worth it. Years or months of yearning fell into the abyss as it all came spiraling back to them. The emotion they shared worked in the background to develop into the foundation of whatever they would become. Blaine faced a new life while Kurt struggled to comprehend the impossible questions echoing in the back of his head. In their hearts they knew they would not be facing this as individuals.

Gradually their simple circles came to a halt they looked fondly into each other’s eyes. With valor Kurt pulled back without disrupting the manner in which they grasped each other’s hands. Pain flashed in his chest and across his face. “How?”

The look on Kurt’s face made Blaine think he had done something. Eyes blinking Blaine’s heard slowly sank to the bottom of his chest. 

Kurt noticed and leaned in. Gently nipped Blaine on the chin he followed it with a bouncy slurp of the tongue. 

Startled, a tear rolled down Blaine’s cheek and he hesitantly admitted. “I feel . . . I don’t know. . . I don’t want to . . .”

Reaching up, Kurt dapped the tear with the index finger of his right hand and the licked the salty moisture to his lips. His tongue rolled across the skin and he smiled. 

Blaine smirked. “All I wanted was to be with you, Kurt?”

Squeezing Blaine’s right hand, Kurt’s eyes sparkled. “And me, you.”

Head resting to one side, Blaine smiled. “You’re such a dear. There is so much . . .”

That finger touched Blaine’s lips ever so lightly. Kurt’s lips pushed out. “Sh-h-h-h-h.”

“Kurt?”

“Not . . .”

“We don’t need to talk . . . now.”

“Yes, we do”

“But?

“There is so much going on.”

“Yeah.”

“But here we are.”

“Yes and it’s wonderful.”

“Amazing, but . . .?”

“You want to talk.”

Bowing his head Kurt nodded.

Placing a finger under the other teen’s chin, Blaine slowly lifted Kurt’s head. Eyes matched eyes and then the curly headed boy leaned forward and kissed Kurt ever so gently. “Come with me.”

Kurt looked puzzled but Blaine’s right hand pulled his left. Finger looping together, Blaine led the boy to the mattress raised up off the floor by a wooden frame that looked like it has seen better days. The headboard faded along the edges and looked as if some had repaired it in places. The nobs sticking out from the rounded wooden feet looked as if there may have been a footboard at one time. 

Blaine stopped in front of the low bed and with his left hand invited Kurt to sit. Kurt faltered. Glancing at the simple blanket covering light gray sheets, Kurt noted four pillows against the headboard. For the first time he realized how neat and tidy Blaine’s little area looked. Wooden boxes turned on their sides and stacked on top of one another acted as shelved. Some held neatly folded clothing—a dozen colourful shirts, undershirts with and without sleeves, three pairs of shoes plus sandals, half dozen brightly coloured pants, some shorts and a few sweaters. Another box setting upright held socks and underwear. Hooks sticking out of the side of one of the upper boxes hung two jackets, one light and one for more inclement weather. Hooks on the others side of the stacked boxes held six button down shirts of different colours and patterns on hangers. The remainder of the upturned boxes held books, stacks of thin paper booklets and a few personal mementoes.

One of the items on the third level attracted Kurt’s attention. Stepping away from Blaine, his fingers threatened to pull away but Blaine refused to let go. He followed along. Curious, Blaine held his tongue and then he saw it. Slightly obscured by a tarnished silvery trophy placed in front of an empty picture frame made of pieces of over lapping metal squares sat something made of glittering gold. The fist sized, slightly squished crown on a glittering gold piece of broken wood occupied the space in front of the frame. Bright blue eyes remained locked on the toy like item as his head slowly tilted down to the right. 

“I played with it,” Blaine softly said.

Turing to face Blaine, Kurt glanced down at their hands. Tears brimmed his eyes. “I remember something like . . . that . . . I had a . . . we were at a dance and . . .”

Blaine blinked and a tremor run up his legs and long the back bone. “My mother made it for me when I was five.”

Kurt’s brows furrowed and then one of them went up. 

Sucking his lower lip in, Blaine wondered where this would go. “I saw it in a dream and described it to her.”

“Oh?” Kurt’s head drooped

The heart skipped a beat and Blaine understood why. Squeezing the warn left hand in his right, Blaine asked in a low, compassionate voice, “Your parents are dead?”

The question hung the air like dense fog on a chilly night. Kurt’s heart dropped as if carried by a weight. He had been in school when they told him his father hand died. The neighbour who looked after him when Burt traveled had been called to pick the boy up. That evening two corporate officials showed up to exercise the rights of their employer as per Kurt’s birth contact. Now the property of the state, law and tradition meant he would sent to one of the work camps until he came of age. Then, if the conditions have been met, Kurt would be able to invoke his options. Unfortunately, no one outside of the protected zone could afford it. 

The look on Kurt’s face provided the answer. Eyes locked on one another, their heads fell onto each other’s shoulders. The sobs Kurt flowed down onto Blaine’s warm neck. Unable to keep his composure, Blaine sniffled and shed tears as well. Right in left, they hugged one another. Set adrift but circumstance beyond their control the love they felt for each other would never displace that for their birth parents. 

Eventually Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand and let out a shuddering breath. “Mine too.”

Tightening his grip on Blaine, a tear fell on the soft hair close to Blaine’s nipple. Blue locked on hazel and Kurt allowed himself to be led back to the bed. Blaine lowered himself down onto the mattress first and then pulled Kurt down beside him. Knees touching, Blaine pulled his right hand up to his lap bringing Kurt’s left with it. The curly haired boy placed his other on top of the two and waited. He hated seeing Kurt like this. He hated feeling like this. 

“Kurt?” Blaine felt suddenly afraid. “Baby?”

The teen with the lovely alabaster skin did not move at first and then his head shifted so that he glanced at Blaine. His face remained blank but his eyes sparkled.

Frowning, Blaine pleaded, “Please say something.”

Inclining his head ever so slightly, Kurt whispered. “This is all so hard to believe.”

“At one time I scarcely believed what my benefactors . . .” Blaine suddenly stopped.

Kurt’s eyes hardened and his mouth hung open for a few short seconds before he muttered, “Those . . . things?”

Blaine’s eyebrows pressed inward. The comment stung but he took note of the anxiety in those stunning blue eyes. “Friends, Kurt. They’re camped out in the trees giving us time.”

“But . . . how?” Kurt blinked. 

“I don’t want you to be afraid, Kurt.”

“I thought I could do this . . . but . . .”

“If you feel you must . . .” Blaine hesitated and swallowed. His chest felt heavy. “. . . leave . . . I will . . . be sad but I will understand.”

Suddenly Kurt buried his head in the other boy’s shoulder and pulled him close. The words rolled from his month at the same moment a shiver ran down his back. “I’m never saying goodbye to you.”

Stroking a smooth cheek, Blaine whispered in a hoarse tone, “Does that mean . . .?”

Kurt’s continued to bury his head into Blaine’s shoulder. “Yes.” 

“I was so afraid you wanted leave.” Blaine pulled back and gazed at Kurt with sad, puppy dog eyes. Sitting side by side with nothing to hide, he could see and presented to Kurt, every imperfection accompanied by wonderfully enticing details. Those blue eyes drew him in and, gods, he wanted to crawl inside Kurt and live there for the rest of his life.

Lifting Blaine’s right hand to his heart Kurt rested his left hand on top. “You’ve filled my dreams with such simple pleasures and raised my heart out of mire. You saved me Blaine.”

A thumb traced a line along Kurt’s smooth chest. Blaine blushed. “You’re not freaked out?”

“Freak, oh, yeah, but you move me Blaine Anderson.”

“And you make breathing hard, Kurt Hummel.”

“I could just eat you right up.”

“Why don’t you?”

Kurt glanced at the door and his eyes got a little unsettled.

Blaine sighed. “Oh?”

Sucking in his lips, Kurt looked pensive for a moment. “Blaine, what do you recall of your parents?”

“Do you really want to do this?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I did not want to go on.”

“You’re brave Kurt.”

“Far from it.”

“No, you are. You stepped from the safety of the other side of wall into a strange place occupied by strange beings. That’s bravery.’

Kurt gave Blaine a curious look. 

Flipping is right hand over so that his fingers meshed with Kurt’s, Blaine bashfully grinned. “Sitting here with me is brave.”

Kurt softly smiled. “I want to know everything about you.”

“Some of it will not be easy.”

‘Like your . . .”

“Oh, yes.”

“But you’ll share?” 

“Yes.” Blaine beamed even though his heart hurt. He hesitating for just a moment. “Mom was always happy, lovely and she could sing. My dad, well he like me at times. My older brother filled my old man’s life with joy. I was a bit of let down.”

“Brother?” Kurt looked surprised as if he somehow knew.

“He’s dead too.”

Awkward silence and sad looks preceded an affectionate hug. Kurt broke the peace. “I’m an only child.”

Hesitating, Blaine realized the parallel between the present and this past as he knew of. “You want to know how I ended up here with . . . my friends.”

Swallowing, Kurt stifled a yawn. “Yeah.”

“I was born on the world this amazing ship is approaching fifteen solar cycles ago.” Blaine adjusted how he sat. Sliding back on the bed he dragged Kurt with him. The two soon sat with their backs to the headboard propped up on pillows. “My mother and father were born there as well along with my grandparents, great grandparents and so on.”

“That sounds . . . I . . .” Kurt blinked and pulled back.

Stroking the back of Kurt’s hand, Blaine waited for the look on his face to change. Then he asked, “Do you . . . have you heard of the tale from the mid to late twentieth century about alien abductions?”

Still holding Blaine right hand, Kurt leaned shoulder to shoulder with the other teen. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. His brow scrunched up and he looked confused.

Blaine squeezed that hand when he felt him tens up. Staring at Kurt he asked, “You alright?”

Kurt let out a short sigh. “Yeah and thank you.”

Smiling Blaine leaned into Kurt and carried on. “During the middle twentieth century and into the first half of the twenty first there were lots of tales about people vanished without a trace. There were all sorts of conspiracy tales about the Bermuda Triangle and other places like that were ships and planes disappeared with all hands. Lot of UFO sightings and missing farmers and livestock. My mother side of the family had been on one of those planes. My dad’s side originated from a man plucked out of his car one night. They all ended up on the planet you’re approaching and settled there.”

“Not experimented on?”

“No, experiments. We studied what is called ‘The Gathering’ and about Earth in school. The planet has probably changed a lot.”

“Yeah, probably . . . We?”

“Yes, there were about one hundred thousand of us at one time.”

“Were?”

“We lived in a city on the coast that looked like a mini-New York matching the turn of millennia. Five years ago an earthquake struck the city killing tens of thousands.” Blaine bowed his head. “I was with two hundred children and some adults on a weeklong trip to one of the environmental centers inland. I remember the ground shaking. The news networks cut into the commination channels broadcasting the horrific sight. The land heaved up and within half an hour half the city containing the heaviest human population slipped beneath the sea.”

Gasping, Kurt turned to face the other boy. He leaned into Blaine resting his head on Blaine’s shoulder. “Your family?”

Heaving a sigh, Blaine let his head fall against Kurt’s. “Roughly twenty thousand humans survived and my family were not amongst them.”

“I’m so sorry.” Kurt leaned against Blaine. Releasing his left hand, He wrapped it around Blaine and drew him into a soft hug. Drawing in a deep breath he resisted a yawn.

The fingers of Blaine’s right and instructively sought out Kurt’s left. Lowing her head onto Kurt’s shoulder, Blaine’s sadness eased with the gentle embrace. “And your parents, Kurt.”

“My mom died . . .” The lean, alabaster toned teen drew in a shaky breath and resisted a yawn “. . . of cancer and my dad was killed in an accident on a space freighter.”

No one spoke as they slipped down the pillows so they lay close to one another. Rolling over on their sides their noses almost touched as they gazed at into soft, emotional eyes. Left still in right, their thumbs gently caressed smooth skin. Foreheads touching, the internal agony of remembering faded into the harmonious beating of their hearts. Somehow the sensation of being so close meshed memories of lost loved ones into a happy montage of the good things. Children played with their mothers and one of them had a meaningful conversation with his father. The other managed to garner a few words of praise from a distant dad. A curly headed boy found happiness in the lush forest on the edge of the city and the other managed to find a peaceful spot amongst the mayhem of life a large farm. Hazel and azure twinkled about them binding these separate recollections together.

Stroking Blaine’s hand with his thumb, Kurt pouted and then his lips stretched into a warm smile. “My turn . . . you okay?”

Blaine whispered. “Yeah.”

“That was strange.”

“Not really.”

“What do you mean?”

Blaine rolled his head away and looked up to the dark ceiling. Faint yellow coated his face as his brow furrowed and his nose crinkled up. Lips moving in and out he closed his eyes for a second. He saw darkness. Drawing in a deep breath his gaze returned to those glittering blue eyes. “It’s a little bit complicated.”

Squeezing Blaine’s hand Kurt grinned. “Your . . . friends?”

Hesitating, Blaine turned his head to Kurt’s gaze. “My friends.”

Drawing his head back, Kurt looked a little wild. 

“Dearest, we do not have to go there . . . yet.” Blaine leaned closer so their heads touched again. 

“Yet?” Kurt frowned and he averted his eyes without moving his head. “Only if . . . no . . . please go on.”

“You sure.”

“I want to know everything about you Blaine lovely Anderson.”

“I want to learn all there is about you, Kurt adorable Hummel.”

Kurt’s eyes drooped as her fought with a yawn. The day’s emotional high waned. Wound up from the time Puckerman pinched his pass the turbulence of finally being with Blaine took its toll.

Watching for a moment, Blaine softly caressed the back of Kurt’s hand. He looked so cute. Blaine whispered, “Kurt?”

“Yeah . . .” Kurt yawned again.

Bumping Kurt’s nose with his Blaine grinned. “You’re tired?”

“I’m fine.” Kurt smirked. “Your . . . friends?”

“Okay but don’t blame me if you drift off.” Blaine pressed his nose playfully up against Kurt’s. “There’s twelve of them from four of the predominant races found on my . . . our world.”

“Predominant?”

“There are about twenty species in all including humans.”

Kurt chuckled. “It’s a zoo.”

“Far from it. There are eleven cities in all with the most populous races dominating seven, including the humans. We all mix and get along for the most part. It really does work considering the obvious differences.”

“Did they . . . your friends bring your ancestor to that planet?”

“No, some of the races were already there when the humans first arrived.”

“Who?”

“The Gi, well that is what I call them. I can’t pronounce their racial name. Ning can. He saw one about two hundred and thirty odd years ago.” Blaine paused. “That is a calculated guesstimate in Earth equivalent years.”

“Two hundred . . .?”

“Ning’s middle aged.”

Kurt looked surprised and then his face changed as he held back another yawn. 

“Nap time?” Blaine’s voice could barely be heard. He smiled at the lovely boy.

“Nope,” Kurt looked up with wide eyes. His body twitched, “They just . . . dumped . . . you all here?”

Knowing Kurt would not last too much longer, Blaine paid attention to the other boy’s body motions. A finger flicked and his penis stretched before became peaceful again. Blaine had to grin. He continued when Kurt nudged him. “I don’t know the details but I was told the human called them ‘The Greys’. Have you studied Earth history?”

“Not one of my favourite subjects.” Kurt’s voice sounded sleepy weak.

“Well, in the mid twentieth century something called Roswell happened on Earth where . . .”

“I sort of recall something about this . . .” Another struggling yawn. “. . . the aliens were described as little grey men with big eyes.”

“That’s them. They brought people her from all over the galaxy.”

“Why?” 

“They were told resettlement would save the human race.”

“From what?”

“I really don’t know.”

“And your . . .” Kurt’s head drifted down to the pillow. “. . . kidnapped people.”

Rolling over. Blaine hauled Kurt’s left hand over his torso and held it in his right against his chest. Behind him Kurt snuggled closer resting his chin against Blaine’s neck. Warm air flowed over Blaine’s skin when Kurt yawned again. 

They remained silent for a moment as Kurt readjusted his position again. Blaine just satisfied himself with the feeling a body pressed up against his. The thickness of Kurt’s flaccid cock pressed into the crack of his ass pleased him. Blaine wished it would grow to its full glory but then he could wait.

“Blaine?” Kurt moaned.

The curly head boy replied in a quiet tone. “Still awake?”

“I love . . .” Kurt moved at bit and yawned. “. . . you.” 

Smiling, Blaine said loud enough so that Kurt would hear him but would not be disturbed. “I love you too.”

Kurt pushed away from Blaine and started to turn over. In a low, gravelly voice he stated. “I want to feel that softy blanket on your chest against my back.”

The expression on Blaine’s face told a huge story. “Okay.”

Blaine cozied up against Kurt from behind. The paler boy shimmed back into that hairy chest and their clasped hands again. Moist lips touched the back of Blaine’s hand. A thick appendage pumped against Kurt’s buttock and the sleepy teen purred. No, he softly snored.

Lying there with his head resting in the curve between the head and the shoulders. Blaine turned his head so he could see the faint glow on the roof. He happily smiled. How incredible and scary. In their odd way, his friends had informed him his fate approached. Hiding in the thick brush, Blaine watched the stunning boy appear out of the airlock. Kurt stood there for a while looking things over and then walked right by him without even noticing. When Kurt started to sing and desire to jump him exploded in Blaine’s chest. Then the plan stuck him and Blaine snuck away. 

Trying to ignore the sweat rolling down his back made waiting an aggravating affair. Listening to the angelic voice fade disappointed. Then came the endless moments of silence in which Blaine thought Kurt must of run. No, there would have been a noise. Yes, Kurt considered. He may be afraid. Finally, Blaine decided t make a move. Striking the keys he took a chance.

When the handsome boy became a silhouette highlighted in the door, Blaine’s entire life lay open before him. Twelve friends had assured him of the reality of his childhood dreams. Then three ships arrived and humans stepped out to discover Ning’s people and everything changed. The lone human boy living with reptile shocked those from the single ship which landed. Using Blaine as a translator, the advance party communicated with the ships in orbit and then the Arc. In short order a deal materialized and plans changed. They would be taking thirteen passengers back with them. 

Over the long months of their journey his benefactors eased Blaine and Kurt into the new reality in a manner the teen still did not comprehend. Angry, Blaine demanded proof. It came one night in the form of a boy in a shower. The feeling of that pulsating cock inside him satisfied but the frustrated teen did not really believe until white liquid dripped down onto his inner thigh. The sight grossed him out but he never second guessed again. 

Now, Kurt lay against him sleeping like a happy child. Blaine could not be more delighted but then . . . how would Kurt would handle the rest.


	24. A New Reality

The sudden ripping of his shoulder sockets rudely dragged Blaine from a heavenly sleep. Hazel eyes popped open to find Kurt white faced and screaming. On instinct he dragged the boy to him but Kurt fanatically resisted. Flaying legs kicked him and hard fingers dug into his arms. Hauling on Kurt, Blaine spooning him as best he could. An elbow in the side of the head stunned and Blaine barely hung on to the frenzied boy. Throwing himself on top of the scared teen, Blaine pressed down with all his weight. Forcing Kurt’s left hand down onto the bed with his right Blaine squeezed his fingers tight. Straddling Kurt at the waist he held on with all his might.

“Kurt!” Blaine called to the terrified boy. “Kurt . . . I’m here.”

With surprising strength, Kurt bucked beneath Blaine making it hard to hold him. Desperate, Blaine thrust his lips at a contorted face. Making contact did not come easy but soon their lips locked. Allowing his passion to flow into Kurt, Blaine did not relent until he felt Kurt relax beneath him. Peppering Kurt with many little kisses Blaine did not allow Kurt time to think. 

The scruff of Blaine’s chin raked across Kurt’s skin as his head turned to follow those blue eyes. An ear resting barely half an inch from Kurt’s nose. Blaine could not escape the violent transfer of breath and smelt the fear. The distress emanating from Kurt tore into Blaine filling him with regret. He should have planned this better? 

Blaine eased up and then Kurt kicked up causing discomfort. Pressing his lips into the side of Kurt’s mouth, the frightened boy beneath Blaine rolled his head away. Bending to followed, hazel found blue and Kurt let suddenly eased his resistance. The heart pounding in his chest fought to regain a steady gate but a worried face helped. Finally, he let out a long, relaxed sigh. 

Kurt’s head sank into the pillow. Lying there panting Kurt’s wide blue eyes gazed up at Blaine revealing a narrow range of emotions—fear, love and anger. Falling asleep to the sound of Blaine’s sweet, tenor tones made his day. The scaly head at the end of the bed almost ended it. 

“Kurt, please calm down. There is nothing to be afraid of.” Blaine whispered as he relaxed his grip on Kurt and partly rolled off of him. 

Kurt kicked up, his eyes shut tight.

Kissing the boy again, Blaine lifted his lips only when Kurt settled again. In a deep voice he whispered, “Are you alright?”

“No!” Kurt snapped. Another deep puff of air escaped his lips as his eyes shifted toward his left hand in Blaine’s right. The sight calmed him. 

“Oh, god, I am so sorry.” A tear feel from Blaine’s eye landing close to Kurt’s nipple. “I never meant this . . . god’s stay . . . please don’t . . .”

“Blaine?” Kurt’s voice could barely be heard. 

Letting out a hard breath Blaine bite his upper lip. “Yeah.”

Kurt’s felt himself go limp. Drawing in a few long breaths the looked up at Blaine. “I almost peed myself.”

“Will I find a wet spot?” Blaine grinned.

Blinking, Kurt looked down the length of the dishevelled bed and suddenly looked away from the motionless shape at the end. Large, glassy eyes stared back at him from the gloom. 

Following Kurt’s stare, Blaine made a face and then he sighed. Shaking his head he started to chuckle. 

A quake rolled through Kurt’s body and then loud puff of air escaped his throat. Looking at Blaine’s joyful face he frowned. Unable to bring himself to look at the alien, Kurt stuttered. “A . . . friend?”

Removing his leg from over of Kurt’s waist, Blaine shifted so that he lay beside Kurt. Sandwiching their co-joined hands against their thighs Blaine softy responded, “Ning isn’t going to harm you.”

“Ning?”

“I’ve known him for most of my life. He’s a friend of the family.”

“And . . . the others?”

“Quail, one of the tall ones, is my oldest friend. My mom told me he was there when I was born. He, Ning and my parents used to go to the theatre together.”

Kurt rolled over to face Blaine with furrowed brows. Suddenly he turned to face the end of the bed where he forced his eyes to remain open. A placid reptile sat there in the shifting light streaming through the door making the humanoid less abstract. Backlit, the alien knelt there not moving. A chill ran up Kurt’s back because the thing at the end of the bed terrified him. In an instant Kurt knew that if he really wanted to be with Blaine he had to be brave. The sweet curly haired teen called him that few hours ago. Kurt could do that—be brave. 

Keeping an eye on the boy he lusted for, the fear Blaine saw in Kurt’s eyes troubled him. The thrashing in his chest accented the word stupid echoing in his head. He should have known better. Waking to yelps beside him enforced Kurt’s importance. In that instant the boy with perfect alabaster skin became Blaine’s number one concern and it hurt to see him like this. 

Stroking Kurt’s face, Blaine stated, “Ning, is a priest. He won’t hurt you.”

“Priest?” Kurt gave Blaine a curious look.

“All twelve of them are.” Blaine turned to the reptile and started to make a clicking sound. Ning responded in the same manner. 

Watching Blaine’s throat move made Kurt wonder how the charming teen made those complicated sounds. In some ways the sound remained Kurt of someone cracking walnut shells and then crushing the shell under the heel. It grated on him but the fact the two conversed caused Kurt to loosen his grip on Blaine’s right hand. In the middle of a phase the curly headed boy glanced in his direction giving Kurt a relieved look. 

They clicked back and forth for a little bit longer before Ning quietly, even gracefully, got up. One eye fell on Blaine and the other on Kurt and then he inclined his head and departed. The sight of those big orbs moving at different times caused Kurt to pull his head down toward his shoulder as he shuddered. 

Cognisant of Kurt’s reactions, Blaine said in an even tone, “He really didn’t mean scare you. I’m so sorry.”

“No.”

“But I am.”

“Blaine? No, I knew this wouldn’t be easy. Why did you friend . . . Ning come?”

“The others sent him here to check on us and find out if we wanted something to eat.”

Kurt’s stomach growled and he chuckled.

Smiling, Blaine noted Ning standing just inside the arch. He nodded and the reptile folded his hands in front of him and bowed. The alien stepped into the growing light and disappeared from sight. 

Slumping down onto Blaine, Kurt hugged the other teen as he buried his head into the other boy’s shoulder. In responses Blaine hugged the trembling teen while trying to hide his regrets. Resting his head on Kurt’s bicep, he looked at that beautiful but troubled face. Reaching over with his right hand, Blaine drew the left into his. “I’m so . . . so sorry.”

“Breakfast?” The words took a lot to get out but Kurt had to. The worry in Blaine’s charming face ate at him. He did not want to cause suffering but he also could not deny himself. 

“Yum . . . breakfast.” Blaine honestly did not know what say. 

Shuddering, Kurt kissed Blaine’s hand before letting out a long sigh. “Blaine . . . I really want to be with you.”

“But?” Blaine’s barely managed to get the word out.

“No buts . . . Blaine.” Kurt kissed the tip of his nose. “It’s time for me to put on my big girl’s panties and go to meet your friends.”

Unable to control himself, Blaine released Kurt’s hand and rolled into him. Hotly kissing the two of them rolled around on the mattress. Nuzzling down the chin and along the jaw, Blaine worked his way down to the neck. Tongue and lips working together caused Kurt to squirm beneath him and then started to giggle. Pulling his shoulders up so that he could squeeze Blaine from a previously unknown sweet spot. Pressing his advantage, Blaine sucked and had to give up himself when he started to laugh. 

Rubbing his curly hair up along the side of Kurt’s face, Blaine found two hands grasping the five o’clock shadow of his cheeks. Pulling those thick pink lips to his, Kurt kissed Blaine with deep, loving emotion. He had to take control and be aggressive to overcome his apprehension. Down south he felt Blaine’s response as stiffening cock pressed against his thigh. Kurt smiled between kisses and then started to roll hauling the other boy with him. Together they tumbled across the mattress and back into the middle again. Hands slid along the bodies but somehow managed to stay above the line of not departure. Eventually Kurt ended up on top of Blaine. Staring down at him with an impish grin, Kurt ran two fingers down a hairy chest. One of Blaine’s shoulders rolled up and he pulled his head down trying to supress the wonderful sensation caressing his body. Kurt froze and then started to laugh. 

Melting down into the mattress Blaine gave Kurt a strange look. “What?”

Lips drawing into a huge smile, Kurt whispered, “Blaine, I want you.”

“What me?” One of Blaine’s eyebrows went up. 

“Yeah . . .” Kurt’s eyes shown like many stars immersed in a cloud of hesitation. 

“But, not quite yet.”

“You’re upset?”

“A little disappointed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“One step at a time, Kurt.”

“Yes, one step at a time.”

“When I felt you that night deep inside deep inside me and . . . man . . . but . . . you’re worth waiting for.”

“Really?”

“Really. We may now each other in some bizarre way but one thing is certain.”

“And what is that?”

“I have loved you all my life.”

“I found love in a haze hue while a dream. Now I am can see those eyes all I want to tell them how much I do love you Blaine Anderson.”

Their lips tenderly met and passions swelled once more. Down south their cocks kicked but the atmosphere remained subdued. Kurt knew he wanted Blaine in ways he had not experienced before. The shower now felt animalistic and Kurt did not want to be an animal with the real Blaine. He wanted to discover all those places on his body that would drive Blaine nuts. Yes, he knew Blaine wanted to go all the way but the sweet teen also understood sex would not hold Kurt to him. 

Suddenly bothered by the thought of lapping at those large hanging balls, Kurt blushed and abruptly asked. “What was your brother like, Blaine?”

The change of subject did not surprise Blaine. In fact he found it cute. “Cooper, what can I say? Well, he was older than I by several years. I liked him and we had fun but he also blamed me for the things he got into and he would use me a punching bag. We used to play hide and seek in the forest with friends. For some reason I was always it. He would read to me some times and treated me better than dad. He also picked on me for being short. Five foot eight is not short is it?”

“Five foot eight is cute and cuddly.” Kurt raised his head off the mattress and licked Blaine’s nose while he ruffled that lovely mane of hair. 

“Ah gee, thanks,” Blaine sort of smiled. “I miss him.”

Kurt pouted. “Sorry.”

“No need to be apologetic.” Blaine grinned. “We both have people we miss but now we have each other.”

Kurt’s leaned forward and kissed Blaine lightly on the lips. The boy sitting on top of him smiled. Blaine’s fate sat on top of him. While Kurt might not realize it yet, Blaine walked a fine line. He needed to make sure Kurt felt absolutely comfortable. 

The deep rumbling rolled under Kurt’s belly button and they started to laugh. Pushing Blaine off him, Kurt rolled to the edge of the bed and glanced back. He made face.

“What?” Blaine remained where he landed. His expression as a humorous side to it.

The nose of the kid at the edge of the bed wrinkled. ‘My teeth are furry and my hair is a mess. I can’t meet you friends looking like this.”

Blaine chuckled and scooted across the bed and kissed Kurt with an open mouth. “There you go, morning breath together.”

Brow crinkling one of Kurt’s eyebrows went up. “Where’s the shower?”

“We have a pond.” Laughing, Blaine’s feet fell flat on the floorboards.

Kurt gave Blaine an ‘are you mad’ looks.

Glancing down at Kurt’s midsection where something remained slightly inflated, Blaine smirked. “You’re cock sky?”

Blushing, Kurt’s chin dropped.

Leaning in, Blaine whispered. “It’s impressive.”

“But it’s only for you.”

“Ah-h-h-h-h.”

“You’re a tease, Blaine Anderson.”

“I will be anything you want me to be, Kurt Hummel.”

“Say that to me again when you carrying our baby.” Kurt lightly slapped Blaine on the shoulder and rose up off of the bed. 

“I’ll see what I can do." Trailing a hand across Kurt’s ass, Blaine rolled his eyes. He stared at Kurt’s sweet lollipop and the right side of his face curled up into that adorable grin.

The smothering look caused Kurt’s cheeks to redden. “They sort of announced the presence of . . . your friends to the ship. Now people are lined up to get a peek.”

“At least I got the first one.” Blaine winked.

Shaking his head, Kurt grinned. “Hahaha.”

Standing Blaine took both of Kurt’s hand in his and looked down at their collective nakedness. “We have seen each other with nothing to hide and what I see is beautiful.”

Beaming, Kurt kissed Blaine’s forehead and then ruffled his fussy hair. “You’re gorgeous and the man of my dreams . . . literally.”

They laughed again and hugged. 

Suddenly Kurt looked thoughtful. “There’s the outflow valve.”

Perplexed, Blaine’s brows pulled together. “Waw?”

“We made it look like a natural water fall. It helps put moisture into the air.”

“The one feeding the steam to the pond.”

“Yup, we could use that for a shower.”

“On the way here I would go for a dip in the tank they had for us. Other than the Ilkaaaranis . . .”

“The what?”

“The little fury things, the others do not bathe as we would.”

Kurt made a face.

Blaine giggled. “They . . . let’s not get into his now. Anyhow, the pond is nice and I can even do laps.”

“Maybe we can go for a swim later and with cloths on. But for now, I would really like a shower. You have soap?”

“Err . . . yeah . . . something like it.”

“Good.”

“You’re upbeat all of a sudden.”

“On the contrary I’m scared to death.”

“Baby?”

“If I’m going to learn about you Mr. Anderson, I can’t wallow in the mud forever. Face the day, my dad would always say. Besides, I still need to see if those big girl panties fit.”

“My dad rarely spoke to me.”

“I’ll talk your ears off. In fact you might even get tired of me.”

“Never.”

“We’ll see. Now let’s take that tasty bubble butt of yours and get it washed. I feel like a used gym socks.”

Chuckling, Blaine went to one of the upturned boxes and pulled out two items similar to towels. Tossing one to Kurt, he drew a pair of shorts up over his legs and fastened them. With an impish grin he then went looking for a shirt.

Kurt’s eyes twinkled. He liked Blaine in shorts. Fitting tightly across the ass when he bent over, they also providing a nice view of the fact he wore no underwear. Shaking his head, he trotted off to find his bag. Digging into it and pulled out pants and a shirt. Holding a pair of socks and paused. One shoe sat just to the right and the other to a couple of yards away. Turning to Blaine, Kurt watched him slip his feet into a pair of sandals. Kurt’s lips pulled in. He should have come better prepared. 

Exiting the hut with Blaine’s hand in his Kurt’s eyes went to the places in the wall where people could be watching. He could imagine any number of eyes staring back at him. The news he had entered the land of aliens would have ran it course amongst the Arc’s passengers by now. Wondering what they thought bothered him. There would be all sorts of uninhabited tails. Then the cameras built into the ceiling, what would they reveal? Could they see into the huts? He found the idea disconcerting.

A little pool surrounded by dense vegetation stood at the base waterfall. Luke warm water cascaded down a faux rock face. To make it spray out, Kurt took some rocks, snapped branches and thick leaves to create a shoot forcing the water to shoot out into the pool below. Knowing no windows had been located near the pipe and the structure behind the wall make Kurt feel secure. Before undressing he placed a leaf over the camera further up the wall. Let those who watched figure out what they did. 

Kurt went first but did not last too long. The water chilled him so he made quick work of it. Blaine, on the other hand, danced about like a boy who had been given his toy back. Catching the tumbling liquid in his mouth and then spitting it out as he bopped about. Watching, Kurt realized Blaine would always be a distraction. The muscles on is back flexed, his legs thickened as he stooped down and bouncing of his ample appendage made Kurt blush. A flustered boy could not tear his eyes away.

The enticing sight did not stop Kurt from feeling guilty. They could have experienced each other in a very intimate manner but Kurt cut a wonderful moment short. The more he watched that ass the more he wanted it. The Arc had a surprisingly large collection of material that could teach. Finding men and women doing it had been no trouble. In fact the usage counters on some of them surprised him. Woman on woman popped up easily but men together proved a little harder than the thought it would. He watched snippets of all three forms and found, for the most part, it to be disgusting. Yet, he remember a moment similar to his. The growth between his legs embarrassed him. 

Leaping out of the flow of water, Blaine ran over to Kurt and shook his hair out over him like a dog would. Kurt laughed and tried to catch him. The two ended up splashing one another in the small pool. The gravity of the frisky smiles spoke of a sense of belonging. Throwing their wet body together Kurt joyfully messed up his wet hair. Acting their ages, or perhaps a few years younger, the world around them consisted of just the two of them. No pressure. No one watched. Just two people discovering an ethereal joy both had for each other. For Blaine it felt as if they has been together for countless year. Kurt sensed a deep longing going back to some place in history he loved. The carefreeness of the moment removed everything the held them back. Unsullied freedom prevailed. 

Wet lips squished together as they hugged. Snatching up a familiar right hand, Kurt smiled and nipped at Blaine’s lips. At the same time he weaved thick growth on Blaine’s head and then Kurt abruptly stopped and drew away. His lips formed into a frown but his eyes revealed delightfully enlightened emotion. Then the light seemed to dim. 

Arms enveloping the other boy, Blaine gazed at Kurt with soft, amber-brown eyes “Nervous?” 

“Yeah.” Kurt shyly admitted.

Touching Kurt softly on the check, Blaine said, “I will be with you every step of the way.”

“Thank you.” Laying his forehead against the other teen, Kurt smiled. The heart felt light regardless of his turning stomach.

A little while later Kurt came to an abrupt halt as the thick vegetation around him suddenly pulled away. Looking to the other boy, he swallowed. Pumping the hand held by his left, Kurt scanned the circular clearing. Overhead the dense foliage leaned into toward one another forming an unnatural dome blocking out most of the light and the ever present cameras.

Letting out a long, hard puff of air, Kurt gazed at a gathering they all looked at the two humans. Forcing himself not to turn his head, Kurt’s eyes feel on the nearest fur ball. The little fluff thing with antenna and long ears looked kind of cute. The monstrosities with the long boney bodies looked like they had just hauled a something out of grave. The sight of it gave Kurt the creeps. The massive size of the dinosaur intimidated. The way the seemingly glowing eyes moved across its head creeped the teen out. Ning and his fellow reptiles, while vaguely humanoid in nature, made Kurt the most uncomfortable. Those large, independently moving eyes made it hard to look at them. The fact three species wore clothes made it easier for Kurt to look at them.

Uncomfortable blue eyes locked on the one thing that did not threaten—a platter resting in the middle of the collective. Colourful morsels resembling fruit and something that could perhaps be meat had been laid out with elegant care. Fourteen wooden cups and a large urn sat next to it. Water sparkled in each. The growling of his stomach did not console him.

Releasing Kurt’s hand, Blaine wrapped his arm about Kurt’s waist. As if on instinct his Kurt’s left hand found his right against his hip. Their fingers meshed together. Blaine lightly tugged on oh his hip giving him a one side smirk.

The look may have buoyed Kurt’s sagging spirits but his eyes hid nothing. Revulsion filled them. In turn Blaine squeezed Kurt’s fingers letting him know he would not be alone. Kurt weakly smiled. Grateful for the tender touch, Kurt tried to control a compulsion to run. Bile rose in his throat as his gut turned. The very sight of the creatures made his knees weak but at the same time the sight fascinated. Here sat the products of nightmares—no, not nightmare but intelligent beings representing the future. This moment may place him in the chronicles of human history. 

Rubbing his thumb against Kurt’s hand, Blaine paid close attention to the teenager beside him. The clammy hand in his revealed Kurt’s fear. Blaine sympathized as he studied Kurt’s expressions. “You still want to do this?”

Those soft brown eyes had an endearing puppy look which revealed the young man really cared. This alone caused Kurt to relax. Biting his upper lip, Kurt nodded.

Squaring his shoulder, Blaine started to speak in the clicking language spoken by Ning. The reptile responded and then all twelve of them started to speak in their various unique tongues. One of Ning’s eyes rolled separately to the one locked on the two humans. Many alien eyes fell upon Ning and then it became obvious he had been elected spokesmen. One of the little fur balls shuffled making a humming noise and Ning’s beak clicked something to Blaine.

Blaine turned to Kurt with a smile. “They welcome you to the circle and invite you to eat with them.” 

One of Kurt’s eyebrows went up and he glanced at the large platter in the center of the circle. His stomach rumbled and he sort of smiled.

Blaine leaned closer to Kurt. “Is that an announcement of your intension?”

Flushed with embarrassment, Kurt grinned. 

Blaine patted Kurt on his stomach with his free hand and then whispered. “You ready?”

Drawing in a deep breath, Kurt slowly nodded.

Blaine gave an ‘are you really . . . really sure’ look.

With a quick squeeze of the hand and reassuring wink, Kurt encouraging Blaine to follow as he took a fateful step. Bowling over the terror in the pit of his stomach, Kurt realized his need to push beyond his fears pivoted on this moment. If the hand slipped away now Kurt would be lost. This boy, this teen, this future man made it possible for Kurt to carry on when the darkness ripped his soul away. He owed Blaine this much. 

Slowly walking over to the circle, the two teens sat a grass matt laid out for them. Side by side and continuing to hold hands, their knees touched. Kurt half expected the beasts around him to dig into the contents of the platter like barbarians, but no, they kept their decorum. In fact Blaine’s friends inclined their heads or dipped their ears in a sign of respect to their guest. Bowing their heads lower, they began to hum in a very particular way. At first the different sounds clashed and then came together. The reptile’s clicking sound mixed with the low, guttural, slurred grunts of the dinosaurs and the skeleton like things added a high pitched counter tone. The odd, almost mechanical sound, of the little fur balls arranged itself in the middle creating a very intriguing symphony. Kurt glanced at Blaine with an awkward smile. The fussy haired boy winked. 

Kurt’s eyes popped wide open causing him to tighten his grip about Blaine’s hand. The crystals about the alien’s necks glowed ever so slightly matching the swelling of their song. The air about the circle felt suddenly charged with electricity causing Kurt stiffen. Huge beads of sweat roll down his back soaking into his trousers. Retraining an overpowering need to run, Kurt depended on the touch of the teen beside him.

Blaine, on the other hand, remained resolutely calm regardless of Kurt’s bone breaking grasp. With gentle care he caressed the back of Kurt’s hand even though it hurt to do so. His head turned to face Kurt and hazel fell upon fearful blue. Having anticipated this, Blaine held Kurt’s gaze knowing he had to drive his own anxieties away. 

The musical light display lasted a less than a minute and then the aliens all lifted their heads at once. Ning looked to his companions and then turned his attention to Blaine. His beak clicked.

Blaine nodded. “Kurt, Ning apologizes if their blessing frightened you. This little ceremony happens every time they break their twelve hour fast.”

Kurt blinked. “Okay.”

Blaine smiled at Ning. 

One of the tall, thin, boney creatures leaned forward. Long fingers gently picked up something looking like bread. Raising it to his head, he muttering a few high pitched noises, he then split it in half. Taking a small piece for himself he handed half off to the left and the other half to the right. Each preformed the same small gesture and took a section in turn before passing the dwindling loaf on. The creatures with hands removed a chuck. The fur balls held it in their antenna and used the serrated tips of their ears to tear at the bread like substance. When it reached the last of the aliens on each side a large dinosaur handed the remains of the loaf to Blaine. 

Taking it, the fussy hair by lifted it to his head and then tore it in half. He offered the other part of Kurt. “This is an offering to break the fast and the thank nature for its bounty.”

Knowing all their eyes fell upon him, Kurt nodded and repeated the ceremony. Blaine smiled and the grey leathery lips belonging to the dinosaurs curled up but Kurt could not tell about the rest.

“My parents taught me the blessings of the Old World as we called it.” Blaine spoke with soft emotion. “I never really practiced it which upset my father to no end.”

A shiver rolled Kurt’s moist back. “If you mean religion, neither did I.”

“I believe in something but not like my father. The blessings of the meal is important to my friends, thus it has become important to me.”

“I see. I hadn’t really thought of religion until I saw . . .”

“My eyes?”

“Yes. After you spoke to me, I started to think of such things.”

“I’ve learned faith and religion are not the same thing.” Blaine put his right hand on his chest. “For me it is something far more personal.”

Leaning in, Kurt placed his left on Blaine’s right. “Like this. It just feels right.”

“Yes it does.” Blaine smiled and took a small bite of the bread. 

Kurt glanced down at the offering. It looked like bread with the texture and structure but he a distinct yellowish-brown colour. Slowly he took a small bite. It tasted sweet. 

The line of Kurt’s sight slowly drifted down from the eyes to the soft hair of Blaine’s chest. His pull over shirt had a collar and an open V neck. A chain hung about his neck but he weight at the end dangled out of view. “You have one of those stones.”

“Yes, my mother gave it to me when I was born.” Blaine reached up the pendant out from under his shirt. The amber colours gem twisted in the dim light. Smooth edges reflected the light. The inch long, half that wide and three eighths of an inch thick oval attached to the chain by a thin golden loop.

Kurt’s head moved as if he studied the little gem. “What just happened?”

“Do you trust me, Kurt?” Blaine stared into those blue eyes. The crystal fell against his chest on the outside of his shirt.

“The colour reminds me of your eyes.” Kurt avoided the issue. Gazing at Blaine he saw only admiration in those soft hazel eyes. Slowly his blue orbs dropped to the pendant and his forehead scrunched up. “Yes, I trust you.”

“I trust you too. Kurt. More than you could imagine.” Blaine glanced at Ning and nodded. “No matter what happens don’t let go of my hand.”

Wide eyed Kurt pulled back and swallowed.

“Kurt, darling, there is nothing to be afraid of. They are just going to show you something.”

“Okay.” Kurt words came out a hushed rush of air.

“I want you to think of someone who is not myself. A friends perhaps. Keep your thoughts focused on him or her.” Blaine quickly reassured Kurt by kissing him on the cheek. “And remember, don’t let go.”

“I’ll try.” Kurt squirmed as more sweat rolled down his back. 

Blaine lightly bump his shoulder into Kurt and then turned to Ning. Making those clicking by moving his tongue against the roof of his mouth and opening and closing his throat, Blaine explained something to the reptile. Ning nodded and then Blaine held his hand out the dinosaur next to him gently laid on of his tentacles attached to his elbow in Blaine’s palm. All the aliens joined hands or ears. Together the twelve of them and Blaine lowered their heads leaving Kurt wondering. 

The twelve aliens began to hum but Blaine did not join them. Slowly their voices rose creating the most incredible masterpiece of sound. Thirteen crystals pulsated with the rising harmonics. Then the air about the circle began to shimmer ever so slightly over the platter. Faint flickering light coalesced into an image. A blond haired boy stood in the music room talking to two guy and three girls. Others drifted into the image as if they entered the room. An adult caught their attention when the stepped in front of the large monitor. Everyone took their seats but then blond kid stopped and looked over his shoulder as if someone watched him.

“Sam?” Kurt gasped as he suddenly pulled his hand away.

Blaine leaned forward bringing his hands to his head. His eyes rolled up as he gulped with the pain. The heart breaking sounds of someone charging off into the forest echoed in his ears.


	25. Opened Eyes

Kurt sat on a rock dangling his toes into the clear, warm water. Grasses and what looked like Lilly pads choked the bank of the pond. Two months ago the pond had consisted of piles of rock, dirt and mud. Two months ago Kurt’s life appeared equally messy. Now a dense tropical forest filled the inner hold of the lander and Kurt had held the boy with the hazel eyes but . . . yes . . . but. The adorable, fussy haired teen obviously knew what the twelve would be capable of. Why reveal it that way? Emotion screamed of betrayal and hurt but logic spoke of a simple scenario. If his father had come home and told his son they would be moving north to the protected zone, Kurt would have scoffed. Walking through the security perimeter in one piece would definitely made him believe.

He vaguely recalled tearing his hand from Blaine’s and running. Somehow Kurt got lost in all that vegetation. The knees of his light brown pants testified to the fact he had fallen a few times. The twigs had already been tugged from his hair making it a mess but he did not seem to care. When he finally stopped he just sank down to his knees. Fuck, Blaine wore one of those crystals. Could he do what the aliens did? Staring at his left hand Kurt sobbed.

Self-reliance had kept his fears in check but seeing Sam destroyed whatever clue held him together. Desires to be with Blaine collapsed when the panic created a wall of fog. Overwhelming emotions erupted and conscious thought gained some measure of control when he fell for the third time. Technology could have created the image but how would they have known how to form it. Maybe they had somehow implanted Kurt with something to read his thoughts. No, impossible. The monitor Lieutenant Schuester stood beside displayed todays date and a time suitable for an early class.

Calming down did not come easy but when it happened the first thing to strike him concerned Blaine—he missed the boy. Letting Blaine down left Kurt feeling terrible. His heart sank to the bottom of his stomach where a sickly sensation persisted. The circumstance of his flight became misplaced in the muddle. He barely realizing where he ended up until his feet hit the water. The thought of going to the hut but then, one of those things might be there. God’s what had he done?

The shadows around Kurt moved as if the day progressed but he really had no idea how long it had been. Splashing the water with his toes, he remembered to breath. Staring blankly at the fake stone wall where many invisible eyes probably watched, he felt miserably empty. The crude little village sat on the other side of the placid water like a dreadful reminder. Nothing moved over there, not even Blaine. Surely Blaine would have gone looking for him.

Loneliness and the pounding his chest hurt the most. In the hut a communications device lay in in a side pocket of his bag. If he called they would place him in decontamination and isolation. Well, he felt isolated now. Being beaten up left Kurt feeling low. This felt far worse

Observing the ripples ranging out cross the pond made the distraught boy think of something that lifted his spirits a tiny bit. During the spring rains Burt would take his son done to the local, river, which now consisted of nothing but a tiny creek, to watch the slow moving murky water. Kurt had never seen a large body of water and this pond seemed larger than the pools he and his dad found. The thought should have make him miss his father but he felt only a deep numbness.

Rolling his shoulder, Kurt drew in a deep breath. Pushing his bottom lip up over his upper lip and glanced over to at his shoes beside him. Reaching for his socks he froze. A soft tenor voice rose in song behind him.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B6LhWbQthAI – I keep finding music not from Glee that fit. This one is by Jon Secada - Just another day – and again you will need to imagine Blaine singing it)

_Mornings alone_   
_When you come home_   
_I breath a little faster_   
_Every time we're together_   
_It'd never be the same (it'd never be the same)_   
_If you're not here_   
_How can you stay away (how can you stay away)_   
_Away so long_

Slowly turning, Kurt shyly gazed at Blaine. The handsome teen stood a few yards away holding a wooden plate piled with assortment of food. His pouty face and heavy brows made the young man looked so adorable.

_Why can't we stay together_   
_Give me a reason_   
_Give me a reason_

Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, red eyes gave way the fact Blaine had been crying.

_I, I don't wanna say it_   
_I don't wanna find another way_   
_To make it trough the day without you_   
_I, I can't resist_

Choking up at the sight, Kurt fought with his emotions.

_Try to find exactly what I missed_   
_It's just another day without you_   
_It's just another day oh_

_Making the time_   
_Find the right lines_   
_To make you stay forever_   
_What do I have to tell you_

Kurt blinked the mist from his eyes. Looking Blaine up and down their eyes locked for a moment and then he suddenly glanced away.

Blaine bushy brows pushed together with worry as heavy sentiment laced the words he fought to sing.

_I'm just trying to hold on to something_   
_(Trying to hold on to something good)_   
_Oh give us a chance to make it (give us a chance to make it)_   
_To make it no no no_

_Don't wanna hold on to never_   
_I'm not that strong_   
_I'm not that strong_

_I, I don't wanna say it_   
_I don't wanna find another way_   
_To make it trough the day without you_   
_I, I can't resist_   
_Trying to find exactly what I missed_   
_It's just another day without you_

Blue eyes circled up to Blaine. Kurt’s chest smacked against his ribs with each remorseful note.

_Why can't you stay forever_   
_Just give me a reason_   
_Give me a reason_

Blaine bled inside.

_'Cause I, I don't wanna say it_   
_I don't wanna find another way_   
_To make it trough the day without you (don't wanna make it trough the day, no)_   
_I, I can't resist_   
_Trying to find exactly what I missed_   
_It's just another day without you_

_I, I don't wanna say it_   
_I don't wanna find another way_   
_To make it trough the day without you_   
_I, I can't resist_   
_I'm trying to find exactly what I missed_   
_It's just another day without you_

Maddening, hesitant silence cycled through the trees. Chests rose and feel in unison as each boy just stared. One of those bird like animals whistled in the back ground and then fluttered between the two of them. Neither boy moved.

Longing pulled at Blaine but he could not find the will until a foot kicked up a single stone. Looking down, the curly headed boy broke the quiet with a single, barely audible word. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Kurt’s voice sounded gravely and low. He felt discomfort even though his heart climbed up from his stomach.

“Is that a private rock or can I join you?” Nervousness played on Blaine’s face. If he had been playing poker with his father and brother he would have been cleaned out.

Scooting over a few inches, it only seemed polite though Kurt did not need to. The volume of the stone could easily fit more than two.

Sitting down at a respectable distance, Blaine set the plate down between them and slightly behind. Shucking his sandals and placing them off to the side. Dangling his feet over the edge he suddenly pulled them back. The liquid felt oddly cold.

Neither of them spoke for the first number of seconds and then Blaine looked to Kurt. He asked in a low tone, “Are you alright?”

Glancing at the water, Kurt stared at it for a couple of agonizing moments and then his stomach suddenly growled. Snickering he asked, “Is that edible?”

Sort of smiling Blaine pointed at a curving orange thing without a peal and said, “Have a strawberry.”

Blinking Kurt made a face. “I thought they were red and roundish.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Shrugging, the right side of Blaine’s face rose in a sexy smirk. “I’ve never really seen one. I can remember this being called a strawberry.”

“Hummm.” Kurt tentatively pocked at one of the orange things. It felt wet and squishy.

Lowering his gaze, Blaine shyly whispered, “You scared me.”

Sighing, Kurt miserably said, “Sorry.”

“Hearing you run . . . well . . .” Blaine allowed an exasperated puff of air to escape his lips. Staring at his feet resting just beyond the water’s threshold, he found it hard to look into those lovely blue eyes even though they called to him.

Eyes following Blaine’s, Kurt gazed at the other teen’s toes. Blaine had nice feet. “Have they always been able to do that?’

“That?”

“That.”

“Ah, if you mean the image, yes.” Blaine sounded upset.

“Oh?” Kurt did not sound convinced.

Gazing at Kurt’s face, Blaine bit his quivering lip and asked, “Are you going to leave?”

Those five words shot through Kurt’s heart like a spike. Shifting a quarter turn to face Blaine, their eyes meet revealing the deep sorrow both of them felt. Blaine’s lips moved as if he had something to say but nothing came out. A dreadful frown marred Blaine’s handsome face as his head sank.

Kurt hesitated feeling the dreadful pounding in his chest. Giving Blaine an odd look, Kurt inquired, “You could have run after me?”

Arching his back, Blaine’s head still throbbed. Regretting his train of thought, he had to say it. Anything else would be a lie and would only make things worse. “Kurt, please don’t freak with what I have to say.”

The boy from the Arc pulled his head back giving Blaine mixture between surprise and anger. He however nodded. “I’ll try.”

Sighing, Blaine stated, “When you pulled your hand away you broke the flow from you to my friends.”

“Good.” Kurt emphasized the word. His brow scrunched up.

“It hurt me.” Blaine despondently commented.

Blanching whiter, Kurt stopped breath for as second as horror filled his eyes. He hurt Blaine, how? Jaw hanging down he blinked and finally let out a quick breath and inhaled again.

Almost choking on the words, Blaine did not mince his words. “It was like I had been hit in the face with a rock. It took a while for my eyesight to come back.”

Shocked, Kurt just stared.

“Kurt, honestly I don’t know how they did it.” Blaine looked haggard. “All I know is that they needed a direct physical connection. What they did there was far less complicated than what it took for them to help me reach you. They slept for a week after our get-together in your shower.”

Sitting there listening Kurt did not know if he really believed. His brows curled and his jaw became set. The look on Blaine’s face and the way his hand shook, however, told the truth.

“When we joined hands,” Blaine carried on with an inclined head, “and I joined with Sagi a connection was created between all of us. I was the conduit for my friends. I wish I could explain it better but I can’t. When you ran, I was frantic but couldn’t do anything. The pain took me.”

Shifting on the rock as if he might Kurt preparing to stand. His sweet face contorted and his lips pulled tight.

“Kurt, please . . . please . . . don’t leave.” Blaine suddenly pleaded. Tears raced down his face.

In a shaky, emotional voice, Kurt whispered, “Blaine . . . no . . . I can’t leave you. We are more than just this moment.”

“Are we?” Blaine swallowed. Unconsciously his right hand came to rest on the rock close to Kurt.

“I would like to think we are.” Kurt sounded a little upbeat.

“So would I.” Blaine’s head sank closer to his chest. “I should have been honest from the start but I didn’t know how.”

“When I tore off I headed for the airlock but sort of got turned around and ended up here. The pond looked so peaceful and quiet.”

“Kind of reminds me of home.”

“My real home was a shit hole of stacked boxes and crowded streets. This feels so real even though it is in a space ship.”

“You should see the forests where grew up. The city sat at the end of a bay protected by a couple of small islands. Mountains rise in the north and the large river ran through the middle. Surrounded by farmlands, the monorail system to the neighbouring cities cut through virgin forests. The trees grew well over one hundred feet and it would take a dozen people holding hand to circle the trunks of some of them. We lived on the north western side of the island the Gi had placed all of us. We had industry, farming and fishing. School taught us to care for the world around us.”

“Wow.”

“You will see it soon, Kurt. Holding my hand . . . I hope.”

“You hope!”

“I still want to be with you, Kurt, but it . . . well . . . I don’t know. I just want you.”

“I want you too . . . more now that . . . my eyes are open. I still can’t pretend this is not a little upsetting.”

Rolling his head up so he looked directly at Kurt, Blaine’s voice quaked. “And I’m so sorry.”

The heart screamed its answer but fear still held some aspect of Kurt’s consciousness. Blue gazed at soothing balls of hazel looking up at him on an angle and then the sight suddenly to torn away. In its place what Kurt saw rocked him to his core. Somewhere in the back of his mind a faint vison formed as if he dreamed. A short, cuddly man in a dark, early twenty first century tuxedo, walking a woman down the aisle dressed all in white. People watched and smiled with surprise. From the front Kurt stood to the left with the other bride to his distant right. Man and woman separated at the base of the one step dais and then separated. One bride went to stand beside her waiting mate. The young man with gelled down hair came to stand beside a young man Kurt knew to be himself. They exchanged excited grins.

“Strawberry you say.” Avoiding Blaine’s eyes Kurt looked down at the plate. Picking up the one of the small curving orange things he took a tentative bite. Washing it about in his mouth he chuckled before swallowing. “It’s a little sweet but tasty.”

The movement of the throat created words that escaped Blaine’s mouth in a hush. “Then you’re not leaving?”

Grinning, Kurt cautiously reaching over he took that right hand in his left. The instant their skin touched he felt a suddenly rush of emotion. Fingers automatically wrapped as their hands became one. The heart rebounded allowing a gorgeous smile to break the gloom of Blaine’s face.

Neither spoke. Without thinking Kurt dragged Blaine’s hand to his lips and kissed it. Holding that hand against his chest, the boy from beyond the wall said, “I really don’t know how to filter all this, but . . . Seeing your eyes, feeling you kiss me when I was down. Sex with a man I did not really touch.”

Blaine cut in with a warmly smiled. “Oh, you touched me . . . in a very pleasant way.”

Kurt blushed and kissed the back do someone’s right hand. “It’s all been so overwhelming. I came in here thinking I would find my future and I have but there is so much to consider. We are young and . . . and we have a long way to go. Are we really ready?”

“Yes, we’re really young and we have lots to learn but we have time and we’re in no rush. Are we?” Blaine leaned closer to Kurt.

“You are a dear man,” Kurt beamed. “You know I’m frightened.”

“So am I. This is uncharted ground for both of us.”

“All I know is you bought sanity to the madness. I have been picked on and beaten in some way all my life. With you, for the first time since my dad’s death, I feel safe. But . . .”

“But?”

“First you, then aliens and now reacting to the aliens followed by whatever that was?”

Sighing, Blaine’s head sank toward his left shoulder. Pain welled up under his ribs and he gently stroked the hand holding his against an equally pounding heart. Tugging that hand over to his own chest, he pressed Kurt’s palm flat against his ribs. It pulsed with the heaviness Blaine felt.

Kurt pulled in a short but sharp breath.

Gazing up into those blue eyes with a pensive look, Blaine sucked in his lips. “Will you stay with me?”

Shaking his head Kurt enthusiastically responded, “Yes, you damned fool.”

A sigh escaped Blaine’s mouth. “Will it help if meeting you in the flesh scared me to death? When they told us we were about to dock with your ship and we had be prepared for the transfer I lost it. When we crossed into this place I ran. Quail found me hiding in the brush. It took him hours.”

Kurt blinked. “We saw . . . well never mind.”

Nodding, Blaine said, “That was when Quail found me. Then he did something so I could see you through the wall. I literally peed myself.”

Kurt gushed. “No?”

“Yes,” Blaine blushed red and looked away.

The kid from the Arc suddenly started to laugh and then leaned into fondly Blaine squeezing his hand. He kissed Blaine on the cheek.

Pulling back, Blaine had a shocked expression on his face. “Someone could be watching.”

Smiling with a devilish glint in his eye Kurt purred. “I don’t care. Just kiss me.”

Lips met and Blaine swooned. Leaning into it as they enfolded each other in one another’s arms Blaine felt Kurt’s heart springing against his chest. Holding onto Kurt as if his life demanded it, Blaine still fretted. While Kurt faced something very new, Blaine had to remember he decided on this route. Had he given Kurt any real choice in all this? One moment Blaine would agree with the statement and the next he blamed himself. He needed this and the closeness of Kurt’s gentle touch. In his mind and heart he knew it had to do with his dreams and that strange knowledge they had loved before. Honestly, he could not have prepared for what Kurt went through. Guessing made for huge miscalculations.

Cautiously drawing away Blaine did not relinquish his hold on the other boy. Thick, puffy lips hovered less than an inch away from the boy opposite him. Taking Kurt’s head in both hands he stared into those blue eyes. Melting heat rose in his chest. Wet streaks ran down his cheeks attesting to the mash of emotions Blaine felt.

“Does this mean you’re my husband?” Kurt winked and smiled.

“Well . . . not in the formal sense of the word.” Blaine devilishly responded. “But I would like to be.”

Kurt coyly grinned. “We really don’t know one another.”

“Oh, the manner in which you had your way with me I might need Ning to get his shotgun.”

“His what?”

“Shotgun wedding. It’s an old Earth saying when two people are married because they have to. The father of the bride uses a weapon to keep the groom from running. You know pregnancy.”

Kurt made a face. “Are you joking?”

The right side of Blaine’s face curled up into a grin. “I’ve never seen one but they talk about it in the old stories.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Not yet.”

“Not yet?”

“When you make an honest man of me, ask me again.”

Throwing his lips into Blaine’s face seemed like the right thing to do. Their mouths slid over one another as tongues lashed.

Retreating first, Blaine smirked. The playfulness pleased him. “Ahhh, and you called me a tease.”

“Me?” Kurt placed his free hand on his chest,

“Yes, you.” Blaine poked him with the index finger of the other boy’s shoulder. “Being with you makes me feels like we have already been together . . .”

“In a shower?”

“Well, yeah but . . . no.”

“In bed.”

“Can’t wait for that.”

“Peed our pants.”

“Well I did.”

They both laughed.

“It feels so weird but it’s like we have been together forever.” Kurt admitted in a soft tone.

Smiling, Blaine whispered, “Hours at least.”

“Perhaps.” Kurt playfully licked Blaine’s nose.

Making a face, the laugh lines about his face pulled together with his big, goofy grin.

Rising a single eyebrow Kurt added, “You know I saw things when I slept or when I closed my eyes other than sparkling hazel. You and I together in our house or walking down the street or just singing . . .”

“What?” Blaine looked concerned at Kurt’s contorting face.

Kurt’s head drooped. “Do you know what time it is?”

Glancing up at the brightest point of light, Blaine guessed. “I don’t know? Before noon.”

“I need my communicator.” Kurt peered across the pond at the huts.

Teeth raked Blaine lower lip. His chest hurt for a moment. In a shy tone he asked, “Why?”

Regarding Blaine for a moment, Kurt picked up a piece strip of reddish-brown something from the plate and boldly popped it in his mouth. “Tastes like pork.”

Feeling suddenly sick Blaine weakly pleaded, “You said you would stay.”

Eyes crinkled when Kurt smiled. “I’m not leaving you, you goof ball.”

The look on Blaine’s face altered to one of contemplative fun.

“Honestly Blaine,” Kurt poked at him, “you’re such a boy.”

One of Blaine’s eyebrows went up several times in quick succession. “Yeah, I hope so.”

Rolling his eyes, Kurt blurt out. “I need you to sing with me.”

Suddenly brightening, Blaine beamed. “Anytime.”

“Yes . . . certainly . . . no. This is a little more complicated. I belong to a singing group and they’re preforming tonight in a completion. With me in here, they are one man short and will be disqualified.”

“So, you’re going back?” Blaine pouted.

“You really want to piss me off don’t you.” Kurt ruffled Blaine’s impressive mane. “You’re not getting rid of me that fast.”

Blaine frowned and gave Kurt his patented puppy gaze. “Sorry.”

Shaking his head, Kurt said, “Will you be serious.”

“Okay.” Blaine sighed.

Giggling, Kurt squeezed the other boy’s fingers. “I want you to sing with me tonight. To be part of the New Directions.”

“From here?”

“Yup, I need to speak to Lieutenant Schuester.”

“This is going to be interesting?”

“Schuester said it could be done.”

“How many people are in this group?”

“Twelve, thirteen including you.”

One of Blaine’s eyes brows went up.

Picking up another piece of the pork tastings stuff, Kurt chewed on it. “There’s lots of cameras pointing at us right now and I’m sure Schuester has considered the issues. Besides the captain said we could do it.”

“Okay.” Looking puzzled Blaine picked up a morsel and popped it in his mouth.

Slipping his shoes on before crawling to his feet, Kurt held his hand out to Blaine who happily reached up and took it. Kurt helped him stand and then bent down and picked up the plate with a smile.

“Can’t waste it.” Blaine smirked as he scooped up his sandals and Kurt’s socks.

“It’s tasty.” Kurt said with a wink.

With a hop and wink Blaine purred, “I know I am.”

“We’ll see.” Kurt friskily bumped into Blaine.

The stupidest little grin materialized on Blaine’s face as he walked with Kurt around the pond toward the hut they would be sharing. Holding hands their steps had an unmissable lightness about them. Bopping his head back and forth, mounds of curly hair flopped this way and that. Asking to share a song meant much to both of them. Blaine felt it when his friends helped him sing those few times from a great distance. The sound of Kurt’s sweet tone mixed with his mesmerized. Just thinking of it caused goose bumps to rise on his skin. Kurt would not be leaving. Yes!

Working through the vegetation at the end of the pond, Kurt glanced up a he dense plants about them. “I have never seen anything like this. You need to live in one of the protected areas or a corporate farm to see this many trees. Is this an accurate representation of the world you came from?”

“On a small scale, yeah.” Blaine pushed a branch away for Kurt. A few feet away the water glistened in the light from above. Thick trees chocked bank right to the edge. “The Gi placed us all on an island about the size of Great Britain. The rest of the planet is largely unexplored.”

“Great Britain?” Kurt looked thoughtful “Yes, England and such. It no longer exists as a nation. The corporations control local governments. But, let’s not talk about that.”

“Sounds like Earth has changed a lot since my ancestor were . . . well, as you said, we can speak about all this sometime later.”

“There’s a lot to talk about.”

“Right now I’m interested in your friends. The blond was kind of cute.”

Kurt stopped dead in his tracks and gave Blaine a hard, troubled look.

The dark haired curly topped boy’s face erupted into a huge, proud smile. “So you can get jealous?’

“Ah,” Kurt blushed, “yeah.”

“Kurt, you have nothing to get into a lather about. I have spent all my life loving you. It isn’t going to change because of on cute friend. But, honestly, those lips.”

“Sam gets a lot of flak for those lips. So kissable.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah but it would be like kissing my brother. I would rather kiss you.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah.” Kurt leaned in and kissed Blaine on the lips being careful not to spill the contents of the plate.

Swinging Kurt’s arm with his, Blaine started to walk again. “I can get used to being kissed by you.”

“You’re such a smooth talker.”

“Are you going to be jealous of Ning?”

“Why!”

“Ah, you’re safe. I don’t think humans are his type.”

“Good.”

“Quail might like you.”

“You have to be joking?”

Blaine shrugged and gave Kurt a quick peck on the cheek. A few steps later they exited the thick shrub and walked through the grass toward the huts. Blaine held his left hand. With his sandals and socks dangling down, the tall blades hit against his skin as he walked. He loved nature.

One of the large dinosaurs stomped by carrying a large wooden box in his tentacles. Nodding to the two humans, he said in very poor English, “Ain, Urt ess’ns”

Almost dropping the plate, Kurt stumbled to a stop. Staring at the monstrosity, he could not believe it spoke.

Squeezing Kurt’s hand Blaine whispered, “They can all speak English, to a certain degree.”

“Wha?” Kurt shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Ulti offered his blessing.” Blane watched his brutish friend vanish into the brush. “They will be meditating for most of the day but they know they have to make an appearance now and then.”

“I guess I will get used to all this.”

“When I go through the airlock, things will be reversed. I will be the one who’s lost.”

“Those are humans out there.”

“Yes, but things are very different. They will see me as being an alien. You know the boy who came from an enclosure designed to keep us aliens placated. Some of them will be thinking up all sorts of things they may want to do. Holding me down and taking . . . well let’s not go there.”

“Like experiments.” Kurt blurt out. He recalled a discussion in the captain’s office.

Blaine nodded. “I endured enough of those already. The doctor on the smaller vessel took all sorts of samples from all of us. I’m worried about the impromptu ones like the one that put you in the hospital.”

Kurt shuddered. “Not a conversation I wanted to have just yet.”

“Okay, so let’s talk of something we have in common, music.” Blaine butt his shoulder gently into Kurt’s. “I used to compete at home. I was part of a teenage theatre group. We did plays and musicals. I learned to play the violin when I was a kid and later the piano.”

“I’ve only seen instruments like that in museums.” Kurt followed Blaine into the dim of the hut. Walking toward the bed, he placed the plate down on the piano bench. “The modern music is really bad.”

Dark browed pushed up creasing Blaine’s forehead. “How so?”

“You have to hear it to understand. It is disjointed with no harmony. It’s mostly made by machines” Kurt shook his head at his description. “That song you sang when I first stepped into this garden is from the era of music I relate to the most. Broadway, pop music and the Sound of Music.”

Blaine stepped closer to the make shift book case. His fingers ran along the edges of a pile of thin paper booklets. “These are all scores from the time of my ancestors. Apparently the Gi moved more than just people here. They reconstructed the entire city with intact libraries, concert halls, theatres and all sorts of stuff so people would be familiar with. They did that for each race. It’s kind of amazing when I think about it.”

Kurt’s face paled and he glanced away.

“Speak to me, Kurt. Don’t keep it in.”

“That means we’ll be there too?”

“I don’t know. I guess the council will need to decide in concert with your people.”

“Council?”

“Ning, Quail and Sagi are members of the council which oversees interspecies relations. I guess it’s a form of federal government.”

“They . . . you might need to speak to the captain.”

“They’ve been discussing issues with your command structure for a few weeks now.”

“With your help?”

“You heard Ulti, he can barely speak our language.”

“But you can theirs.”

“Well, Ning’s yes and a little bit of the others. They mostly need to speak through him. It’s easy to speak Ning’s language once you figure out how to get the tongue to pop just right. Ning does not like my accent but he has to live with it. He has two tongues and it makes it hard for him to speak English. The g’uri, Sagi, Ulti and Brui, have tongues like us but larger. Their issue with our language has to so with the fact their larynx so deep down their throats. Quail speaks through his nostrils. The furry ones make a humming sound from the tip of their ears.”

“Right . . . okay . . . another later topic.”

“Personally, I can see your people being asked to join the rest of the humans. However that will be up to your command structure and the Foundation Council.”

“Foundation?”


	26. Hello Blaine

“Ladies and gentlemen, let’s give a hand for the New Directions newest member, Blaine Anderson.” Lieutenant Schuester looked into the camera from his end. He out of view of the camera.

Nearly a dozen faces gazed into the screen accompanied by light hearted clapping. Arranged in two rows, Artie sat in the middle of the first row in his wheelchair with Mike and Quinn on one side and Rachel and Finn on the other. Sam, Puckerman, Tina, Santana, Brittany and Lauren filling in the back.

Noting Kurt tense up, Blaine glanced to his side. The moment his eyes feel on Kurt he felt oddly distant. The déjà vu moment tossed him into the misty world those azure eyes had immersed himself in over the past few months. A boy with heavily gelled down hair walked behind someone who looked something like Lieutenant Schuester through a door. That event paralleled this one with spooky similarity.

Running his hand down the back of Kurt’s arm, Blaine cheerfully smiled into the camera. “Thanks so much everyone, I am so thrilled to be here. It’s going to be a great evening and we’re all going to go to the finals.”

Again, the welcome turned out to be lackadaisical. Not impressed, Kurt felt bad for Blaine. Glancing to his left where his newly discovered emotional interest leaned in so he could be seen on the screen. Right shoulder pressed against left they sat side by side on the floor. A few minutes ago Kurt spoke to Lieutenant Schuester on a private channel. It left him buoyed but the reaction of his friends turned it into apprehension.

The tiny expandable fifteen inch screen of the communications device shifted and the image altered. Sitting between Kurt’s knees angled up making it look as if everyone on the other side sat on and angle. Split into two screens, the smaller of the two showed two teens in a hut. Situated themselves so the bed did not actually look like a bed the view accented the makeshift shelves. Both boys thought it provided a backdrop which would create the least opportunity for speculation.

Mr. Shu stepped into the camera and said to the teens seated before him. “Is there a problem guys?”

Some of the teens scanned about. Finn on the other hand looked into the camera and stated, “I just want . . . err . . . Blaine to know we’re . . . well . . . hum . . . are a team.”

Blaine’s head raised from Kurt’s shoulder and a shudder ran up his spine. He knew the expression in Finn’s eyes. Drawing in a shallow breath he tried to push the haunting thought away. Timelines splashed together and when he spoke he repeated the past. “I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?”

Taken aback by the statement, Finn straightened up. “You show up here and . . . well . . . you pull one of our team away.”

Kurt mouthed the word ‘jealous’ and leaned into Blaine to reassure him. In a strong tone he announced, “And here I . . . we are.”

Grinning, Blaine asked with an accretive voice, “Right, Lieutenant Schuester, what’s next?”

The expression on Finn’s face changed.

“Uh . . . call me Mr. Shu, Blaine” the officer came back.

The jock glanced around looking or support. The appearance of Puckerman’s face revealed what Finn searched for. In a plain, straight forward way he voiced his concerns, “You came here from god’s knows where to do what? Ruin our chances by what . . .”

Puckerman pointed at camera when he cut in. “Voodoo mumbled jumble.”

“How do we know he can really sing?” Quinn questioned.

“You heard him sing with me those couple of times.” Kurt’s had an uncharacteristic hardness to his voice.

”And that proved what? That he’s what a . . . ventriloquist?” Finn’s tone faded away as if he did not want to continue with his thought.

Puckerman threw in. “He doesn’t even look green?”

Santana snickered and then inserted, “Kurt, move the camera so we can see your three eyed pet.”

“It doesn’t look like a freaky toy,” Puckerman laughed.

Mike spat. “Shut up Puckerman, Santana.”

“That’s enough of that!” Mr. Shu demanded of his charges. The officer passed across the screen. “Blaine’s offering to help us.”

“Maybe we don’t need . . .” Puckerman’s face went red.

“Damn this” Kurt growled loud enough for the sound picked up over the communicator.

Rachel yelled. “Don’t!”

Kurt froze and his blue eyes went to Blaine.

Puckerman growled, “We’ve lost anyhow. Let the ass . . .”

Hitting mute the teens in the hut did not hear the last words. Drawing in a shaky breath, strong emotions played across Kurt’s face. The device slid from his knees and hit the floor.

Rubbing his hands up and down Kurt arms, Blaine shook his head. Rachel filled most of the screen as he tried to get their attention. At this moment Blaine felt nothing for anyone but Kurt.

Half turning to face Blaine, Kurt sadly moaned, “They’re supposed to be my friends.”

“They area and don’t let them win. Hazel is holding you.”

“I thought . . .”

“Kurt, we knew this would not be easy.”

“Assholes.”

Climbed onto the bed, Blaine lowered himself down so that his legs rested on each side of the aggravated teen. Leaning forward so his mouth rested just inches from Kurt’s ear, he watched the reactions in the screen. “Kurt, just remember that you want to sing and I want to be there with you.”

“I do and we will.” Kurt’s voice could barely be heard.

In a hushed tone, Blaine stated, “Believe me, I’m going nowhere without you.”

With a slightly cheerer disposition Kurt shifted so he sat against the bed between Blaine’s strong legs. Their embrace soothed him. Balancing the electronic on his thighs he tilted until he could see Blaine face resting on the top of his head. Grinning, Kurt reached up and the fingers of his left hand flayed about as if looking for something. He found it when Blaine’s hand slipped into his and then fell upon a shoulder.

Blaine gently rubbed his chin into Kurt’s hair a smile pushed up his lips. Enjoying the moment the grin on his face suddenly shrank away. Beneath his shirt the crystal he wore vibrated as it did every time his friends used their chanting to do something which included himself. Hazel eyes became slits when he saw Quail in the door. The tall, bone thin alien bent down so he could see into the hut. The crystal dangling from his bony neck faintly glistened with an internal radiance.

Comforted by Blaine leaning against him, Kurt touched the mute button and said, “Mr. Shu.”

“Hey, they’re back” Mercedes’ voice carried over the communicator’s speakers. She turned to look into the camera with a smile.

Lieutenant Schuester stood to one side of a group of teens surrounding Finn and Rachel. The officer looked as if he tried to gain some measure of control while Santana and Quinn looked over heated. The rest of the teens stood close by except Artie, Mike, Brittany and Tina. The conflab ground to a slow boil as many eyes turned toward the camera.

“Kurt, you scared me,” Rachel detached herself from the crowd and sat. Others did the same.

“Sorry, we needed to discuss something,” Kurt apologized.

The fussy haired by smiled and waved with his free hand. His eyes however went to the hut’s door. While he could not see Quail but the shivering crystal touching his skin told a story.

“I knew you wouldn’t abandon us?” Rachel’s face almost filled the entire screen. “Discuss what?”

“That they could not let . . . you . . . down.” Santana groused.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Rachel glared at Santana.

Santana snorted. “You don’t want to give up the limelight.”

Rachel turned to face the mouth Latino. Finn’s hand gently came to rest on her shoulder.

“It looks like he’s ready to dump us for . . .” Puckerman looked about when someone cut him off.

Artie glared at the teen. “Why don’t you just can it, Puck.”

Shaking his head, Kurt drew in a long shaky breath.

“Kurt, please don’t. There your friends and I’m an outsider. They’re afraid of . . .” Blaine’s eyes went down toward Kurt. Wishing he could see blue he finished. “. . . my friends.”

The head beneath Blaine’s swivelled upwards.

“Friends?” Artie innocently asked with a bright, inquisitive look.

Both Blaine and Kurt shifted their gaze back to the communicator. Kurt said, “Yes, our guests.”

“Quest?” Britany questioned.

“Alien’s,” Puckerman shook his head.

“Yes, aliens,” Kurt sounded tense. “Ning, Sagi and Quail and the others are Blaine’s friends.”

Grinning, Blaine stroked Kurt’s fingers. His eyes narrowed as the glanced to the door again. Part of Quail’s garments rustled in the artificial wind. They did not? No, they would not?

“Ning? Quail? We eating in?” Puckerman joked.

Quinn and Finn snickered.

Puckerman said with a hard face. “Hey Kurt, you show us a minnow. Where’s the big buggers? At least could hold up in tri-ball.”

Finn turned to Puckerman and gave him a high five. “He’s not even . . .”

“Hey guys.” Mr. Shu’s threw his arms out wide giving the teens an unhappy look. “We’re wasting time. Get it together.”

“He’s still a cute puppy?” Brittany said out of the blue.

Santana’s eyes rolled and she shook her head.

“Brittany, focus,” the officer tried to keep a straight face.

“You’re really going to explain that one to me.” Blaine quietly said to Kurt.

Kurt nodded and he altered his position in order to capture a better image of the most gorgeous boy in the world. The device slipped from Kurt’s leg when he adjust his position. Sliding to the floor the angle of the image drastically changed.

“Kurt, don’t.” Sam pleaded. He knew Kurt too well.

Rachel gave Sam an off look. “Don’t what?”

“Kurt, don’t hit the power button.” Sam’s face pleaded. He then turned to the rest.

“Who needs him,” Puckerman groused.

Staring at everyone Sam almost pleaded, “Do you want to win?!”

The response had a unanimous note to it.

“Kurt?” Rachel’s square face filled part of the screen. “You’re not going let us down?”

Puzzled by the conversation, Kurt’s face scrunched up. Turning his hand over, he looked at his fingers and then wiggled them.

Sam turned to face everyone, “Stop being such a bunch of babies and give him a chance.”

“Hey!” Puckerman growled. “Who you calling a baby?”

“Sometimes you need to learn to shut your mouth,” Mike growled at Puckerman.

“This is all well and good. We have Kurt and . . . what . . . is the freak going to be Kurt’s cock puppet? Just let the little alien’s fuck . . .” Puckerman suddenly closed his mouth. He sat sideways with a hard look on his face.

Finn snickered and others looked shocked.

“Puck!” Schuester yelled.

“Screw them.” A finger struck the communicator and the screen went black before shrinking down to a fifth its size. The electronic device fell from his knee as Kurt turned to face Blaine with a pain in his eyes.

The red tips of Kurt’s ears told Blaine much. Pulling their intertwined fingers down toward Kurt’s chest, Blaine gently laid them there. Drawing the darling boy into a hug, Blaine said, “Please reconsider, my sweet.”

“It’s not fair.”

“At least Rachel defected me. Sort of?”

“She just wants to win.”

“Ambition can be a good thing.”

“Are you ambitious?”

“When it comes to you, definitely.”

A loud sigh escaped Kurt’s mouth and he leaned his head back so is rested on Blane’s stomach. The boy behind him leaned into him. The gently touch of fussy hair cascading down upon his skin tickled in a pleasing way.

Blaine kissed the other boy lightly on the ear to reaffirm how he felt. “I’m an unknown, a stranger and a threat.”

Sentiment turned Kurt’s frown into a half smile. Shifting his body so he looked up into that gorgeous face he said, “No you’re not.”

“Think of it from their perspective.”

“You heard them?”

“I hear the screeching of people I believe care about you very much. They’re just scared.”

“So am I.”

“Kurt, we have each other. Please put the machine back so they can see us.”

“I can’t sit here and listen to them.”

“If we hold hands and be true to who we are. We’ll survive.”

Those words and soft hazel eyes melted Kurt. Partially turned, he asked in a low voice, “How can you be so certain?”

Amber-brown eyes went to the door where a boney finger rested on the frame. Then the patented one sides smirk moved Blaine right cheek. “Because I have faith in you. In us.”

“Kiss me first.” Kurt’s head move to the extent of it motion.

Blaine mushed his lips against Kurt’s ear again.

Arching his neck to look back, Kurt moaned, “No, properly.”

Grinning, Blaine used the strength of his thighs to steady himself as he reached around Kurt. Full, willing lips found their mark and he felt elated. Biting Kurt’s lower lip, the curly headed boy enjoyed the sound of Kurt’s low, raspy growl.

Hands clutched Blaine’s checks, Kurt pulling him closer. Lashing out with his tongue the electronic device ground against the wooden floor as Kurt squirmed to get even closer. Their lips separated just long enough to draw in a quick breath. Eyes sparkling, Kurt dived right back into the most delicious dessert he had ever tasted. His wounded heart rose in his chest pushing the gloom away.

Pulling back before he lost his balance, Blaine whispered. “You and me, Kurt.”

The appearance of those bright blue eyes made everything so easy but they hardened and Kurt moaned, “I still don’t have to like this.”

“You’re strong Kurt. Stronger than myself.”

“No?”

“I know my own truth Kurt and you are much stronger than I am. I could feel it as you struggled. It moves me just as your kisses do.”

“You’re so full of it.”

“Lust, yeah.” Playful grin.

Slapping Blaine’s knee, Kurt winked. “Tease.”

Blaine licked his tongue around Kurt’s ear.

Shrinking back, Kurt’s face pulled together.

Smiling, Blaine felt the words in his heart before he spoke them. “I lay there the last night watching you sleep. You looked so peaceful and sweet.”

“Ah,” An honestly happy grin spread Kurt’s lips.

“Having you beside me, wow.”

Blaine straightened up. “You here that beeping.”

“Way to go, spoil the moment.” Kurt frowned.

“Still?”

“Rachel’s a frantic.”

“She loves you.”

“Nah.”

“I could see it in her eyes.”

“She sees this her big chance.”

“To do what?”

“No idea. It’s not as if she is going to use her talent to move up into the protected zone.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Another later topic.”

“Okay.” Blaine touched his lips to the side of Kurt’s forehead. “Feel better?”

Bobbing his head back and forth, Kurt batted his eyelids. “Calmer, thanks to you. What do you want to sing?”

“You’re going to respond to that beeping.”

“Have to or we’ll lose.”

“You’re playing them?”

“No . . . perhaps?”

Pulling his lips in, Blaine did not know what to think. Eyes pushed together as his eyebrows went up in the center. “Kurt you surprise me.”

The sulking boy winked. “I have a lot of surprises for you.”

“So you’re wasting one on them?” Blaine seductively grinned. Leaning in and moist lips met.

“Songs Blaine,” Kurt pushed the agenda.

Nipping at those lips, a devilish smile drew up the corners of Blaine’s mouth. “Do you know, Somethin’ Stupid by Frank and Nancy Sinatra?’

Kurt shook his head as if saying ‘who’.

“What about Separate Lives by Phil Collins and Marilyn Martin.”

“No to that one.”

“Ebony and Ivory by Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder.”

“Sorry, Blaine,” Kurt’s head drooped and he glanced at the blinking light on the electronic device. “This is useless. Why don’t you just sing what you sang to me earlier?”

A deep smile pulled at Blaine’s mouth and then he winked. “Na, that’s meant only for a special someone.”

Kurt blushed.

Hauling himself off the bed, Blaine walked over to the shelving. Lifting several of the scores at the corner, he pouted and then something pinged in his mind like a forgotten memory. Pulling out a particular booklet he looked at it and shrugged.

Brows furrowing, Kurt softly asked, “What?”

The right side of Blaine’s face turned into a playful smirk. “Baby It’s Cold Outside by Diana Shore and Buddy Clark.”

A chill ran down his arms and legs and Kurt sat up straight. “That’s one of my personal favourites.”

“Okay.” Walking over to the piano bench Blaine placed the platter of food on top of the instrument. Opening the wooden cover protecting the keys his agile digits ran up the keys in a complicated scale.

Goosebumps rose on Kurt’s neck—a real piano.

Pointing at the piece of electronics sitting upside down on the floor, Blaine gently asked. “Please put that on the shelf so it can see the piano and join me.”

Hesitating, Kurt studied Blaine and then shrugged. He did as he had been told.

Hazel orbs followed Kurt and his stunning ass. “Can you automate the pickup a Rachel’s fanaticism?”

“How long do you need?” Kurt glanced back.

Shrugging, Blaine blew Kurt a kiss. “Thirty seconds. That will give you a time to join me.”

“Play the first few bars so I can get myself set.” Kurt softly asked. Something about Blaine sitting behind a piano caused his cock to throb in his pants.

Placing the score on the piano he easily played the first two dozen bars. When Blaine stopped he glanced up at Kurt and he said, “You ready.”

Shrugging, Kurt muttered. “I guess so.”

Blaine watched. “You start off and I’ll pick up the second part. When the camera comes on I am going to start playing. Don’t give them a chance.”

“Okay.” Kurt touched the screen toggled through the settings. Trotting over to stand behind the pianist.

“And one last thing, you’re a deliciously naughty boy.” Blaine reached up and gave Kurt a quick kiss.

The clock counted down and then the screens flickered on. Rachel stood there yelling at Santana with Finn at her side. Puckerman and Lauren appeared to be in a deep conversation. The rest sat about watching the heated discussion.

“Kurt?” Tina and Artie said at the same time. A single word brought staggered silence. Teens turned.

Before anyone could say another word, Blaine began to play. At the right moment Kurt began to sing. Blaine effortlessly picking up the harmonizing counter parts when he should.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LFufE3mCTyU)

\--Kurt (Blaine)--  
_I really can't stay (But, baby, it's cold outside)_  
 _I've got to go away (But, baby, it's cold outside)_  
 _This evening has been (Been hoping that you'd drop in)_  
 _So very nice (I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice)_

_My mother will start to worry (Beautiful, what's your hurry?)_   
_My father will be pacing the floor (Listen to the fireplace roar)_   
_So really, I'd better scurry (Beautiful, please don't hurry)_   
_But maybe just a half a drink more (Put some records on while I pour)_

His voice trailing off, Blaine felt distant again. A boy with gelled down hair playfully interacting with someone who looked like Kurt. Moving around the furniture to the end of a dark couch, his voice complimented his counterpart.

_The neighbors might faint (Baby, it's bad out there)_   
_Say, what's in this drink? (No cabs to be had out there)_   
_I wish I knew how (Your eyes are like starlight now)_   
_To break the spell (I'll take your hat, your hair looks well)_

_I ought to say no, no, no, sir (Mind if I move in closer?)_   
_At least I'm gonna say that I tried (What's the sense in hurting my pride?)_   
_I really can't stay (Baby, don't hold out)_

Flirtatiously moving around with his hands behind his back Kurt leaned into Blaine as he tickled the keys. A feeling of having been here before rose in his chest along with a twinge of pain. In some other time and place the two had done this before.

\--Blaine (Kurt)--  
_Baby (Oh, but)_

\--Blaine with Kurt--  
_It's cold outside_

\--Kurt (Blaine)--  
_I simply must go (But, baby, it's cold outside)_  
 _The answer is no (But, baby, it's cold outside)_  
 _This welcome has been (How lucky that you dropped in)_  
 _So nice and warm (Look out the window at that storm)_

That head of curly hair turned this way and that as Blaine tried to follow Kurt’s bouncy motions. Wickedly smiling he did not want to lose sight of the dear boy who made him feel so warm and wanted.

\--Kurt (Blaine)--  
_My sister will be suspicious (Gosh, your lips look delicious)_  
 _My brother will be there at the door (Waves upon a tropical shore)_  
 _My maiden aunt's mind is vicious (Ooh, your lips are delicious)_  
 _But maybe just a cigarette more (Never such a blizzard before)_

_I've gotta get home (But, baby, you'd freeze out there)_   
_Say, lend me your coat (It's up to your knees out there)_   
_You've really been grand (I thrill when you touch my hand)_   
_But don't you see (How can you do this thing to me?)_

\--Kurt (Blaine)--  
_There's bound to be talk tomorrow (Think about a lifelong sorrow)_  
 _At least there will be plenty implied (If you caught pneumonia and died)_  
 _I really can't stay (Get over that hold out)_

\--Blaine (Kurt)--  
_Ooh, baby (Oh, but)_

Part of Kurt felt sad. The song neared its end but then it did not. Once a boy had unknowingly flirted with him but in this reality Kurt already had him. Responding to the warming thought, two hands fell onto Blaine’s shoulders. Leaning in so that their faces are side by side, they two sang the last line together.

\--Kurt with Blaine--  
_It's cold outside_

Finn had an ‘I do not know’ look on his face. Rachel looked worried. Santana just sat there shaking her head at Brittany. Sam smiled and clapped. Mercedes, Quinn, Mike, Artie. Tina and Mr. Shu just stared at the camera.

Puckerman’s month pushed up into his nose. “That was fag . . .”

“Sh-h-h-h-h-h!” Lauren swatted the teen with the bad hair.

Brilliantly smiling, Brittany’s head tilted back and forth. The deepness of her voice rolled through the sound of blowing air. “Ah, cute puppies play’n with one another.

Santana’s face pushed together. “Brit.”

“They’re so cute.” Paying no attention to the others, Brittany wiggled her fingers at the camera.  
“I liked watching them singing on stage. So real and beautiful.”

Watching the faces on the tiny monitor, Blaine suddenly looked to Kurt. “Puppies?”

Tapping Blaine’s hand Kurt said, “Later.”

“Brittany?” Finn gave the blond an odd look. “What do . . . puppies have to do with anything.”

“Everything, nothing.” Brittany’s head bopped back and forth. “Schrödinger equation describes the evolution over time of a physical system in which quantum effects, such as wave–particle duality.”

“What?” Finn questioned. Others looked perplexed

Kurt glanced at Blaine and shrugged. “She’s wonderfully quirky"

Amazed by her words, Blaine muttered, “Okay?”

The cute blond went on as if no one else sat about her. “A simple mathematical formula measuring the frequency of light and the particles of the vibrations can provides the basis for the application of principals which can explain the variation of time and space . . .”

“Brittany!” Santana forcefully suggested in a hushed tone.

“. . . atoms, molecules, and subatomic particles whether free, bound, or localized move at . . .” The blond stumbled and sputtered to a stop.

Mr. Shu stepped closer and waved a hand in front of Brittany’s face. “Err . . . this is all well and good Brittany, but please try and keep you mind on topic?”

Brows wrinkled and pressed together Blaine gazed at Kurt with a puzzled look. “I can’t pretend I understand what that was about.”

“Apparently she a mathematical genius but then . . .” Kurt politely stopped. He liked Brittany after all and could not insult her.

Looking up, the blond waved at camera with a big smile. “They’re such cute puppies.”

The lieutenant shook his head and turned to the camera. “I guess the two of you proved your point.”

Looking contemplative Finn admitted, “Okay, he can hold a toon in an archaic way,”

“He’s got my vote.” Mercedes nodded. She watched Brittany as if trying to figure her out.

“What a duo.” Lauren smiled. She liked what she saw on Kurt’s face.

Tina grinned. “Yeah, Blaine definitely has talent.”

The last comment etched itself into Rachel’s face as her brows knit together. She looked into camera on an angle as if she carefully appraised the situation.

Kurt knew that troubled look and his eyes stretched to catch a glimpse of Blaine. Reaching across his lap he pulled Blaine’s right hand into his left.

Mike looked perplexed. “How did they do it before?”

Explaining to Kurt had been bad enough. Maybe one day but for now, Blaine asked, “Now what. Mr. Shu?”

“We sing.” Kurt proudly announced.

Looking down Blaine smiled. Being on stage with Kurt excited him. Those distant elements of time floating around in the back of his mind spoke of moments of past fame. As couple they accepted awards and created clever adaptations of old standbys.

“Before this degenerates, again, we have some decisions to make.” Lieutenant Schuester walked in front of the seat teams and stood on an angle for everyone to see. “We don’t have time to set up a new bunch of songs.”

“That ancient shit is hard enough to learn.” Quinn did not look happy.

Sam injected, “I kind of like it.”

Santana complained, “You would feather head.”

“See what I have to put up with.” Kurt muttered to Blaine.

Blaine smiled and Kurt and then turned to look into the communicator. “What shit . . . err . . . songs were you going to sing.”

Kurt chuckled.

No one responded at first. Finn looked around and then arrogantly said, “It’s All Coming Back To Me Now and Paradise By The Dashboard Light.”

“And Big Girl’s Don’t Cry,” Rachel threw in with a wide grin.

“Oh, no,” Santana waved a finger at Rachel. “You already have the led in the other two with Finndo.”

Finn shot Santana an ugly look.

“It’s a great song.” Rachel stiffly responded.

“Because you want it to be a solo.” Mercedes shook her head. She had been studying Blaine and Kurt.

Santana’s face hardened. “Yeah, what did you say, we get to stand there and look the part.”

“I deserve a solo.” Rachel glared at Mercedes and then Santana.

“We all deserve solos, fat nose.” Santana shot back.

“Hey!” Finn turned and glared at the Latino firebrand.

“Whoa, we’re not going there again.” Mr. Shu put both hands up in front of him as he tried to head off the discussion.

“I know all three of those songs.” Blaine said but no one seemed to hear.

One of Kurt’s eyebrows goes up and he looked to the electronic device. “Mr. Shu.”

The uproar on the other end continued.

Making a voice Kurt’s voice went shrill as his volume rose. “Lieutenant Schuester?”

“What?” the officer suddenly turned to the screen.

Kurt’s outburst brought nervous silence. “Blaine knows all three songs.”

The officer looked relieved. “We had been practicing five songs. Big Girl’s Don’t Cry is not guaranteed.”

“What?” Rachel squeaked. “You promised.”

“Rachel, I told you no one gets a solo.” Lieutenant Schuester place his hand on his hips holding his ground.

“This isn’t far!” Rachel yelled and stamped her feet.

Santana clapped. “The princess finally getting her due.”

“That’s enough of that.” Finn stood to defend his girlfriend.

Another uproar resulted.

Shaking his head, Kurt looked at Blaine with regret in his face. “Sorry.”

The fussy hair boy grinned. He then turned to the communications device and waved. “Lieutenant Schuester.”

“Kurt, not now.” Mr. Shu blinked when he saw whose face filled the screen. “Ah, Blaine?”

“Yes.” Blaine smiled and then glanced at the boy next to him. “Kurt and I can accompany Rachel.”

“What a charming man.” Rachel triumphantly beamed as she turned to face the camera.

Santana rolled her eyes and said something very spirited in a different language.

“I don’t know about this Blaine,” Lieutenant Schuester said. An image of the officer’s torso to his neck filled the left side of the tiny screen.

Standing tall and proud, Rachel commented. “They can do the back up on the big screen.”

“No, as equal’s.” Kurt leaned into the camera.

Rachel glared into the camera. “What!”

“They could be finger puppets and Rachel could hold them by the butt.” Puckerman blurt out with a huge, evil smile.

Rachel’s face pulled and then she looked to Finn how looked disgusted.

“Oh, gross.” Quinn made a face.

Walking out in front of them, the lieutenant sharply announced. “Focus. We have only six hours before we have to start getting ready.”

“Do we have to wear those awful cloths?” Finn complained. His nose curled up as he made a face.

Looking to Kurt, Blaine asked, “Clothes?”

Kurt snorted. “Their upset they have to wear period clothing.”

One of Blaine’s eyebrows went up and then he looked down at his outfit.

“Clothing has changed a lot.” Kurt soothed Blaine.

Hazel eyes looked Kurt up and down. They dressed similarly.

Lieutenant Schuester paced as he explained, “. . . is not for debate. I assume you want to show up Sylvester. She’s been driving her team hard. And then there’s the Warblers. They’ve torn up their spoke with only one lose.”

Mercedes injected, “Wacky Sue can suck wind.”

Teens snickered.

Artie wheeled his chair forward on an angle. “Wait until we have to do chamber music,”

Lauren looked uncomfortable. “Have you seen some of the stuff from the fifteen hundreds? Gods.”

“It’s great,” Kurt proudly stated.

“Button it fairycakes!” Puckerman menacingly growled. “No one is getting me into those faggy things.”

“Puck!” Mr. Shu barked.

“He’s got a point,” Finn nodded.

Kurt blurt out without really thinking, “Worried about your manhood.”

The jock puffed himself up. “Watch yourself Kurt!”

“Enough!” the lieutenant shouted.


	27. Competition

“Someone peed in the sand box.” The interceding voice cut through the explosive chatter like a wave of frigid air.

All eyes went that way including Kurt. He lunged toward camera with a huge smile on his face catching Blaine off guard. The fussy haired boy got dragged along as he refused to release his love’s hand. Stopped in his tracks Kurt bounced on the balls of his feet as he fondly gazed at the other boy.

“Should I be jealous?” Blaine regretted the words the second he said them. Last night a dream had come true when he finally fell asleep with an adorable boy curled up around him. If he could find a hole to slink into he would do it.

Taken back, Kurt blinked. A hand came up to his forehead and his chin suddenly fell. Staring at the adorable boy with beautiful hazel eyes his heart felt heavy. He stammered, “Oh . . . god’s no . . . I’ve not told you about him. That’s Jake.”

Red faced Blaine’s eyes noted the alteration in the camera angle. A plumpish man leaning against the door frame with hint of displeasure in his eyes came into view. Thick arms folded across his chest he did not look the part of a mechanic. The varied races he shared a world with all wore different outfits but this did not feel human. His eyebrows pressing together, Blaine had to wonder if the man wore a costume. The teens and the one adult he had met thus far all dressed similar to how he dressed. What this person wore looked out of place but then there had been a short discussion about period pieces. He really did not like what he saw.

Bothered by the silence, Kurt tentatively glanced to his left. “Blaine?”

Blinking, Blaine looked bewildered for a moment. How would he get out of this? His mind stumbled and then he touched Kurt’s arm. Blue eyes encroached on hazel and then Blaine’s lips curled up into a wicked smile. “Isn’t he a bit old for you?”

“What?” Kurt tried not to blurt out a shocked response. His feet moved backward but his hand remained firmly grasping Blaine’

“I’m just kidding.” Blaine intently watched Kurt’s amazing blue eyes for any sign that may save him.

At first Kurt looked puzzled and then a huge playful smirk erupted on his face. Swatted the curly headed boy, he growled. “Brat.”

Suddenly very relieved, Blaine played he shy boy. “Oh-h-h-h-h baby, more?”

Wilding grinning, Kurt slapped the other boy’s arm again, “You, so-in-so.”

“You can so-in-so me anytime.” A quick wink Blaine quickly kissed Kurt on the cheek.

Wagging a finger before the other teen, Kurt said, “Oh, you just want until I get you alone.”

Blaine blushed and looked down to the floor. In a soft voice he said, “Jake’s the one how came to the infirmary when they had you locked up.”

“How did . . . oh never mind.” Head shifting to the left Kurt’s expression changed. The skin along his spine trembled.

Bending his shoulder to the left Blaine sheepishly looked up at Kurt. “I only know of him from my strange perspective at the time but I got the impression he means a lot to you.”

Warmly grinning Kurt leaned in and gently kissed Blaine on the cheek. “Yes, he’s like a father to me.”

Placing a hand on Kurt’s cheek Blaine nodded. “Quail is like my father.”

Brows pressing together, Kurt’s expression looked more than mystified.

Placing a hand on Kurt’s arm, Blaine said, “I know it sounds strange but believe me love goes beyond our physical bodies. He and Ning helped me after the quake. They are now my family.”

Lips met again and then Kurt said, “In that way we are both lucky.”

Leaning into one another their head came to rest on their shoulder. Wrapping their arms about one another they hugged.

“Ah-h-h-h, they’re cute,” Brittany’s voice chimed through the awkward silence.

Puckerman’s voice rose up over the sentimental statement. “Barf.”

“Ha hum, boys? Kurt. Blaine.” Lieutenant Schuester interrupted. He stood in the middle of two small groups facing the camera with on hand on his hip.

Two star struck lovers suddenly separated and turned. All but having forgotten the camera they turned bright red. Bowing his head, Kurt wanted to crawl under the piano stool. Mortified, Blaine still managed to find a good side to it all. Kurt’s reaction had a priceless edge to it.

Eyes rolled to his right, Jake regarded the boy with the bad hair. Laughing he then glanced at the quirky blond. “Brittany, you’re such a fresh wind on a stifling day.”

An odd look of admiration crossed Brittany’s pretty face. Artie, Quinn and Mercedes giggled. Lauren said something to Puckerman who responded with a disgusted look. Sam’s smile could have lit the room. Tina and Mike bunched together with Finn who rested a hand on Rachel’s shoulder. The feisty brunette did not look to happy. Less than ten minutes ago nasty words filled the room after Kurt’s blunt comment about manhood. Yes, it boiled Finn’s sensitivities but the fun did not really start until Santana made one of her famous remarks. Quinn did not help but when it really got heated she retreated to the safety on Artie’s side of the room.

All the augmenting left Kurt feeling less than thrilled. Yesterday they all saw him off with mixed emotions. Why had their attitudes changed? Maybe Blaine had been right and fear took them. Months back it had almost conquered him. What did the rumour mill have to say about everything? Sneaking back like a slithering snake that nagging voice in the back of his hissed over a rattle tail.

A song rose in the back of Kurt’s mind. More like a long forgotten dream than something two teens had sung together less than half an hour ago, they had been prefect. No, more than perfect. The words rolled from his lips as if they had been in some other venue in a different time and place. Their flirtations moved him in ways he could barely comprehend because it did not feel young and fresh but rather older and comfortable. The thread he had planned to cast into the pool of his desires remained wound about the reel because Blaine willingly fell into his arms. The sparkle in those hazel eyes revealed a similar feeling accompanied by familiar fear. Blaine might understand things with more clarity but they both took a huge scary step.

Stealthy, virtually quiet, comments accompanied the lyrics. Fear touched Kurt’s heart and the bead of sweat rolling down his back made him uncomfortable. He hated his thoughts and the way his sentiments bounced all over the map. Promises made had been broken. Glowing crystals and their effects terrified him but so did his desire for a boy who had only been a dream until a couple days ago. If he did not step up now he knew he would be forever buried.

Sensing the icy shift, Blaine took Kurt’s left and squeezed it. Hazel fell on blue and in that instant all fear fell away. Drawing in a silence breath, Kurt took a fateful step. With the largest smile any of his friends had ever seen pulling at this lips, he proudly said, “Jake, I would like you to meet Blaine Anderson.”

Blaine quickly glanced at Kurt and then said, “Hello Jake, Kurt has told me about you.”

The mechanic just stared for a few seconds and then the pushed himself off from the wall. Walking over so he stood closer to the gaggle of silent teens, his heavy face burst into a huge grin. “Welcome Blaine, if is good to finally meet you.”

Teens looked to each other. The words definitely made it sound as if Jake knew more than he revealed.

“Thank you.” Blaine smiled the most disarming smile. Meeting all of Kurt’s friends had been simple compared to this. Jake represented someone very special to Kurt and his approval meant much.

“I’m looking forward to meeting you in person. I am sure one day I will be shaking your hand and giving you a friendly huge.” Jake smiled with deep fondness brimming in his eyes. Fully aware of the effect his words had on the teens around him, he strategically hesitated before completing his thought. “Bravo, young man. You play beautifully. I’ve not played piano since I was your age. I hope you will play for me one time.”

Both Kurt and Blaine beamed as they leaned against one another. Hands squeezed together Kurt, whispered, “He’s a wonderful man.”

“I can see that and so are you,” Blaine replied in hushed tones.

Swinging their arms, their fists thumped into Blaine’s butt where Kurt nipped fabric and skin into a quick but meaningful pinch.

Jumping ever so slightly Blaine grinned like a little imp and then looked to the mechanic. “Jake, you are more than welcome to play my piano. It has traveled a long way and needs the tender ministrations of a fine artist.”

Jake smiled back and then took one of the seats at the end of the front row. “Jam together, yes, definitely.”

For a reason he did not really understand Blaine felt suddenly free. Youthful exuberance gripped Blaine and he jumped up and down. Throwing his arms about Kurt, he pressed his lips into his cheek.

“Oh this is rich,” Puckerman no so delicately muttered. He rolled his eyes.

Lauren slapped the supposedly reformed bully on the bicep.

Brittany leaned her head on Santana’s shoulder, the blond said, “Puppies.”

The Latino girl looked a bit upset. “Yeah, cute until they pee on the rug.”

Rolling his eyes, Kurt pulled in his lips and glanced at Blaine. His head went down to the right and a loud sigh escaped his lips.

Squeezing the hand in his right, Blaine whispered, “Yes, you’re cute.”

“So are you,” Kurt replied in a soft hush.

“I think I might throw up.” Santana made a face as her head moved back and forth.

Puckerman made a face. “Race you to the garbage can.”

“Don’t trip over yourselves on the way to dinner,” Tina shot back at the two.

Raising a single finger, Santana shot back, “Oh, listen to the fortune cookie of mislaid . . .”

Loudly clearing his throat, Mr. Shu firmly said, “That’s enough of that.”

Biting his upper lip, Kurt’s head fell onto Blaine’s shoulder.

Noting the look on the Kurt’s face, Jake looked to Puckerman and Santana. Crossing his arms he said, “I can remember a day, in this room, when most of you sang to Kurt asking his forgiveness.”

Finn glanced at Rachel and then his head drooped. Puckerman made a face causing Lauren to give him a rigid look. Sam let out a huge breath and then waved at his friend in the camera. Santana looked to Puckerman and then shook her head. The rest waited.

“I know you’re all young and have woken as if you were Alice stepping through the looking glass. It’s been tough.” Jake stated after a moment of contemplative silence. “Now you’re faced with another uncertainty. Are our guests really that frightening?”

A puff of air escaped Kurt mouth. He whispered, “Only if they knew the half of it.”

“Kurt,” Blaine leaned in and rested his head on the other boy’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, that was not well planned.”

Tugging on Blaine’s hand, Kurt looked to the teen next to him. “I think I’m over it . . . mostly.”

Heart sinking down to his chest, Blaine whispered, “I feel awful.”

“I’ll make you feel better.” A dirty grin stretched Kurt’s thin lips.

Blaine’s face lit up. “Promise?”

Leaning into the teen, Kurt felt strong emotions. “This promise I will keep.”

Loudly pushing his chair back, Sam stood. In an uncharacteristic tone loud of voice, he stated, “Listen to the two of them. Can’t you hear the enthusiasm ion their voices.”

Blushing, Kurt and Blaine abruptly remember, again, they had an audience.

“Do we have to?” Puckerman groaned.

Turning to face Puckerman, Sam said in a calm voice, “I clearly recall a time when we all talked about dreams. What happened to that enthusiasm?”

“We never lost it.” Tina glanced at those closest to her.

“Really.” Sam did not look impressed. “All we do is bicker.”

No one had an answer for that but Blaine had his suspicions. The pendant dangling down under his shirt continued to vibrate ever so slightly. Just maybe his friends orchestrated this to make a point. He intended to have words with his friends but right not Kurt needed his support and he needed to finger out where he stood in all this. Reality and fantasy turned out to be very different.

“Its easy trout lips,” Santana looked from Sam to Rachel. “Some no talent people want everything.

“Listen here . . .” Rachel got cut off.

“No, listen to yourselves. Sam’s right.” Jake stared the officer in the face. “I remember a day when you had more of a backbone, Will. Getting a promotion was a mistake. You rarely backed down from a challenge and now, look what has happened.”

The tingling sensation against Blaine’s chest had increased as Jake said his piece. Glancing toward the door, Blaine saw no sign of Quail.

“And what is that?” The lieutenant’s face became stern. Hand on his hips he did not exactly challenge his subordinate crew member.

“Discord, arguing, fear.” The only emotion Jake revealed revolved around a quick glance at the view screen. “You knew a month ago Kurt and Blaine would eventually met and you did nothing to prepare these kids. Wacky Sue is winning. She’s going to win. Not only tonight but the greater war between the two of you.”

Several teens voiced their displeasure.

“War?” the fussy haired boy looked to Kurt.

The Kurt shrugged.

“Sylvester wants to crush you Will and she’ll use the New Directions as her weapon. “Jake purposely stared at Puckerman. “These kids are good. Damned good. Lead them. Teach them. Unite them. Make them into the men and women they need to be.”

Everyone stared as Mr. Shu’s head slowly drooped. Rubbing his hands together the look on his face became serious for a moment and then he drew in a deep breath. His head came up and then he clapped his hand together. “You want to win, right!”

Over a dozen teens yelled back. Kurt and Blaine’s voices joined in from the hut.

“Right, let’s start anew.” Mr. Shu glanced at his modern watch and began to pace. “We don’t have time to work up new songs but we can work with what we have. Kurt and Blaine can sing with Rachel . . .”

“Yes.” Rachel beamed even though her eyes looked a little hard. Finn glanced at her and squeezed her shoulder.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Santana blurt out as he scooted toward the edge of her seat.

Holding up his hand, Schuester pleaded for calm. “We’re going to do Can’t Stop the Beat and We are Young . . .”

“What?” Rachel started to rise but Finn held her down.

“Those two songs give more of you the chance to shine.” Ignoring Rachel, the lieutenant turned to the monitor as if he had forgotten something. “Ah, Blaine, do you know those song.”

“If you want, I could accompany you on the piano.” Blaine’s bright smile reflected his desire to sing.

“Lieutenant Schuester, you can’t take my songs away,” Rachel complained.

Raising a finger, Mr. Shu pulled his lips in producing an odd looking smile. “Well, then we have a pianist to accompany use.”

“But what of . . .” Rachel continued to object.

The lieutenant looked right at Rachel. “We’ll leave them for the finals where we also have up to twenty five minutes/. We can work up a song just for the guys and one just for the ladies. If we have enough time we’ll add a fifth.”

Tina, Quinn and Santana looked about with bright faces. Rachel still did not look impressed. Others mouthed ‘YES’ while Rachel appeared unimpressed.

“Rachel, they’ll end the finals. They’re strong pieces that can be used to their best effect to wow the judges.”

Rachel she gave Finn a speculative look and he whispered something to her. Her lips pushed out and then she conceded with a head bob.

Nodding, Mr. Shu went on. “We’ll start with And Big Girl’s Don’t Cry and then go into the other two.”

Sitting up without releasing Kurt’s hand Blaine said into the camera, “Mr. Schuester?”

Turning to look at the monitor, the lieutenant responded, “Yes, Blaine?’

“It might be a good idea if Rachel, Kurt and I work at his alone for a while. There are a few issues we need to work out,” Blaine stated.

The officer looked puzzled.

Blaine added, “We will need to interact somehow and there’s walls in the way.”

Schuester paced as he spoke. “I thought we could just use the cameras in seventy two and project you on a screen in the auditorium.”

“Lieutenant, can I offer some assistance?” Jake asked with a pleased look on his face.

Mr. Shu paused for a moment and the nodded. “You play the piano, right?”

Jake grinned. “They had on in the orphanage I grew up in. My job was to play for the staff at dinner and to provide them music for their dances.”

Blaine and Kurt exchanged glances.

“Good. Can you take Rachel to one of the practice rooms across the hall and work with Kurt and Blaine for a couple of hours.” Lieutenant Schuester suggested.

“By all means.” Jake got up and stepped toward Rachel but then he looked back to the officer. “Give me a half an hour while I go and get something.”

“Get what?” Finn gave Jake a look.

“You’ll see. I don’t ruin the surprise.” Jake’s smile grew.

Lieutenant Schuester gave Jake a look and then just shook his head. Clapping his hand together he said, “Okay, let’s get a move on. While we wait for Jake, places everyone. Kurt, sing along with us. Blaine, join if you can. We’ll start with Can’t Stop the Beat.”

A flock of teens got up and took their positions.

Turning into Kurt, Blaine pulled his right hand around to his butt taking the other boys hand with his. “That worked out.”

Leaning into Blaine, Kurt sighed. “Thank god for Jake.”

“I can’t wait for the dinner.”

“Neither can I.”

“You ready for this?”

“Yeah. I’ve been waiting to be on stage with you, for real, for months.”

Looking down to the ground, Kurt smiled the most adorable smile.

Later that night the New Directions gathered in their assigned seating in Lander Twenty’s jammed auditorium. The air had a measure of excitement to it as anxious teens and curious adults busily chattered. It had not taken long for the news the boy who came with the aliens would be preforming with the New Directions. When the interest became overly obvious, Captain Degras opened up the meeting-theatre-sports arenas throughout the ship linking them into the event.

Presiding over the evening’s circus, the captain stepped out onto stage. Flanked the commanders of the various spokes of the Arc, he looked the part of the ship’s senior officer in a crisp, white dress uniform with gold and red accents. The crowd became silent. “Ladies and gentlemen welcome to the final night of the general competition for Spokes Four and Five.”

The audience clapped and cheered.

Raising his hands, the captain waited before going on, “Tonight the teams will compete for the last time and the points will finally be tallied. The winner will go on to represent Spokes Four and Five at the final performance in six weeks. Good luck to all the teams.”

Again the audience responded but his time various groups broke out into chants sporting their teams.

Waiting, the captain looked at his ancient pocket watch and raised a hand to bring calm. “As you all know we are currently entertaining guests from Mu Arae B and this has presented a challenge. By now the rumours have made the rounds thatMr. Kurt Hummel has agreed to be our, your, ambassador with our visitors. Due to the fact he presently resides in Lander Seventy Two we have made a few allowances for tonight’s performance. Mr. Hummel will be joining with the New Directions via webcast and will be accompanied by the interpreter for our guests, Mr. Blaine Anderson.”

Murmurs passed through crowd along with a few loud comments. Most of the New Directions screamed their support.

The captain went on. “This is an auspicious moment and Mr. Anderson’s presence may be perceived as an advantage in the New Directions favour. I have spoken to the commanders of the habitation spokes and they will not be taking Mr. Anderson’s position or location into consideration when judging. The points will be granted for music and stage presence only. I will be standing by observing along with the commanders from industrial spokes. If there appears to be a bias in the judgement, this evening’s competition will be nullified and the standings from the last meet will determine which team goes to the finals.”

Blaine glanced at Kurt and leaned his head against the other boy’s cheek. The amber colours crystal dangling about his neck lay silent ever since the New Directions started to work together.

Kurt grinned back. In the corner of the screen they could see a small image of Jake. He stood at the end of the row of seats with his communicator broadcasting so the two boys could see what happened. Two rows teens of eager teens listened to the announcements. The New Directions looked ready. In front of the seating Lieutenant Schuester and a female officers discussed something with both they hands and months.

Two detached teens sat on a piano bench beside the rock they had sat on earlier this morning with the water as a glistening background. The communication device rested on the stone with a larger, expandable screen hooked into it. Beside it sat a tall cylinder object with what looked like an upside down umbrella on top it with three things that might be cameras. Jake had arranged for the odd device to be delivered to the air lock. Blaine and Kurt went to fetch it and followed Jake’s instructions setting it up. Testing it proved rather interesting. Kurt had no idea such technology existed.

Four of the floor plates from the hut had been removed and laid out on the grass but Blaine’s large friends. The first time he walked on it, Kurt seemed amazed at how flat it lay. Ulti carefully carried the piano over and later the boys manhandled it into the right place. A few hours ago Kurt had entered a room with Rachel to find a similar set up. Jake unveiling his surprise on the rest of the New Directions after their lunch break.

“That’s Wacky Sue. I can only imagine what is flying from her lips right now,” Kurt pointed.

Blaine leaned into the communicator to get a good look. “Oh, the competition?”

“Yes,” Kurt responded in a low tone.

“She can be ignored.”

“She makes it hard at times.’

“You make me hard.”

Kurt blinked and turned red.

Leaning in, Blaine whispered, “You look sexy hot in those cloths?”

Kurt’s blush deepened. “Yours fit you well.”

“Why thank you?” Blaine pulled at his red tie. “Where did they get these?”

“Mercedes and I made them.” Kurt grinned.

Looking at the cut of the pants, Blaine looked impressed. “Thank you for the quick fitting. You did a nice job. Maybe you can teach me to sew.”

“I hope you’re not too nervous.” Kurt smiled.

Blaine’s eyebrows went up. “A bit, but this is going to be fun. You know, your friends can really belt it out with they are not fighting.”

Frowning Kurt’s head lowered. “They can be a spirited bunch.”

“Kurt, they care about you.” Blaine slipped his right hand into Kurt’s left.

Leaning into Blaine, Kurt said, “I know, but . . .”

“Kurt, friendship and love has its ups and downs,” Blaine sighed and looked suddenly sad. “My parents fought a lot but they still loved on another, well, sort of. I’ll never know if they patched it all up.”

Wrapping his arms about the other boy, Kurt pulled him into a hug and then rested his head on Blaine’s shoulder. Enjoying the comfort of one another’s embrace neither of them said a word.

The New Directions went on third. Wacky Sue’s group would be up in sixth spot. Behind closed curtains, part of the light grey stage turned into a faint light yellow square. A stagehand placed a stool dead center in the square as the backup musicians positioned themselves at the extreme back of the stage. Just before the curtain went up Rachel drew in a deep breath and looked back at Finn standing in the wings. Everyone saw him blow her a kiss. Walking out onto the dimly lit stage sat like a proper lady should.

Sitting side by side on the piano stool watching Kurt turned to Blaine and smiled. He kissed the handsome teen and said, “For luck.”

“The light’s flashing. Time to take our marks.” Blaine pointed at the communications device with big enduring smile. Then he bent forward and set his lips of Kurt’s. “For luck.”

The curtains slowly opened revealing Rachel sitting on the stool under a single spot light. Blaine took his cue from the band and his fingers played across the keys.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mojZkl4jFTQ)

Rachel:  
_Ladadada_  
 _The smell of your skin lingers on me now_  
 _You're probably on your flight back to your home town_  
 _I need some shelter of my own protection, baby_  
 _Mmh, be with myself and centerse_  
 _Clarity, peace, serenity_

Walking in from the front Kurt voice rose in volume after the first note. The nervous boy hoped he did not screw up. Watching the larger monitor showed him his position on stage. The equipment Jake had sent scanned Kurt and placed a holographic image on the stage. Blaine could not be seen.

Kurt:  
_I hope you know, I hope you know_  
 _That this has nothing to do with you_  
 _It's personal, myself and I_  
 _We've got some straightenin' out to do_

A second of flickering radiance announced Blaine’s entrance in the scene. The boy with curly hair sat the piano so he could look on an angle to see Rachel and Kurt. Fingers effortlessly danced across the keys and his voice revealed deep emotion.

Blaine:  
_And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket_  
 _But I've got to get a move on with my life_

Blaine (with Rachel):  
_It's time to be (a big girl now)_

While Blaine and Rachel harmonized, Kurt walked around and leaned against the piano. Lying his elbows flat against the top of the low upright piano, his head came to rest on his hands. Staring at dreamy Blaine, he loved the enticing motions of his cheeks and lips.

Blaine and Rachel:  
_And big girls don't cry_  
 _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry_

Rachel:  
_The path that I'm walkin', I must go alone_  
 _I must take the baby steps 'til I'm full grown, full grown_  
 _Fairy tales don't always have a happy ending, do they?_  
 _And I foresee the dark ahead if I stay_

Listen for the line which he marked as his cue, Kurt pulled himself off the piano and seductively strolled around to position himself between Rachel and Blaine. Eyes shifted to the screen he wanted to make sure he did not walk through Rachel as they had in practice.

Kurt:  
_I hope you know, I hope you know_  
 _That this has nothing to with you_  
 _It's personal, myself and I_  
 _We've got some straightenin' out to do_

Blaine and Rachel:  
_And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket_  
 _But I've got to get a move on with my life_  
 _It's time to be a big girl now_  
 _And big girls don't cry_

Kurt:  
_Like the little school mate in the school yard_  
 _We'll play jacks and Uno cards_  
 _I'll be your best friend and you'll be my valentine_

Blaine and Kurt:  
_Yes, you can hold my hand if you want to_

Blaine:  
_Cause I want to hold yours, too_  
 _We'll be playmates and lovers_  
 _And share our secret worlds_

Rachel:  
_But it's time for me to go home_  
 _It's getting late, dark outside_  
 _I need to be with myself and center_  
 _Clarity, peace, serenity, yeah_

Kurt:  
_I hope you know, I hope you know_  
 _That this has nothing to do with you_  
 _It's personal, myself and I_  
 _We've got some straightenin' out to do_

Blaine and Rachel:  
_And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket_  
 _But I've got to get a move on with my life_  
 _It's time to be a big girl now_

Blaine, Kurt, and Rachel:  
_And big girls don't cry_  
 _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry_

Following the last note the rest of the New Directions raced onto the stage in orderly fashion. From the wings a stage hand retrieved the stool. Their second song started almost immediately with Kurt and Blaine’s images joining them. Careful of the yellow square, twice someone stumbled through the projections and the audience laughed. Though it had not been scripted the New Directions bowed to the audience as Kurt had their last performance. It caught to wayward teens off guard but they quickly recovered.

For two amorous teens the rest of the concert consisted of straddling the length wise piano stool watching the other teams. Leaning against Kurt, Blaine’s fluffy hair pressed up into the other boy’s chin. Every so often a puff from Kurt’s mouth would push it away. With his arms enveloping Blaine, Kurt held both their hands together on a rising and falling stomach. Proud of the holographic performance they had both been pleasantly surprised it has been pulled off.

When the last group completed its performance, all the competing teams found themselves on stage again. Blaine stood in front of Kurt. From behind the taller boy dug a thumb into Blaine’s waistband. Then the judges started to make their announcements and in the end it came down to the two front runners—Lieutenant Schuester and the New Directions with Lieutenant Sylvester’s Stellers. Both groups stepped forward and two holographic projections accompanied. Higgins, as host commander, made the announcement and instantly Lieutenant Sylvester avidly protested.


	28. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains sexual content.

Still wheeling from the news two boys walked along a treed path to the air lock and back several times. Right hand in left they found the comfort they both needed. The bitterness of the deliberations caused Kurt to pull back into himself. Even though they stood apart from the rest of the New Dimensions, their images had been broadcast all over the ship. Blaine hated standing there and watching the adorable boy escape into himself.

When the faux stone guarding the disguised door loomed just ahead through the vegetation for the fifth time, the quiet between them finally got the best of Blaine. He needed to get Kurt talking about something. Anything. Tapping Kurt’s wrist, Blaine asked, “Does this mean something to you? A reminder of your home . . . family?”

Brows pushing together, Kurt squinted down at the band enfolding his wrist. “Nothing like that. They put it on me when they thought I was losing my mind.”

“Oh?” Blaine grimaced and then bumped his shoulder against the boy he walked with. “Well, you’re sane to me. Why not take it off.”

“Can’t.”

“Oh?”

“There’s a lock of sorts.”

“Does it allow them to listen to us?”

“No, it monitors my vital signs and mental impulses.”

“So they . . .” Blaine reddened.

Smirking, Kurt said, “You’re cute when you blush.”

Looking embarrasses, Blaine’s head swooped down to the right.

“I’m not sure. I guess they might figure something’s up . . .” Kurt glanced down at Blaine mid-section and smiled.

Skin heating up that much more, Blaine changed the subject. “So, you grew up in a slum?”

“No, not really” Kurt rolled his eyes and playfully swung their arms. He vaguely remembered being somehow more reserved about intimate conversations. “We lived in one of the semi-protected areas. I went to school and learned from my dad.”

“They must have taught you great things to have you placed on this ship.”

“Nah. I learned to read, write and do numbers like most everyone else. The corporations wanted their workers to at least be able to understand instructions. Because of my dad I learned about mechanics and machines. I think that is the real reason I am on this tub.”

“I see.”

“About three of years before my dad’s death, his job moved us to a new facility. There I went to a different kind of school where I learned about science and computers. When they sent me to the orphanage farm, the monks did not have the same resources. Then I started fixing some of their machines they realized I could be of use and arranged to keep my education going.”

“So you got better treatment.”

“Sort of, I guess. What about you.”

“Went to school called Dalton. It was a good place with a wide curriculum. I had always been interested in music and they encouraged me. The arts were big at school and the community really supported it.”

“I wish. We got what we got but I managed to find ways to learn. Everyday something went sideways so there was no consistency.”

“My grandmother said little has changed since she was a child. She told me her grandmother lived the same way we did.” Blaine shrugged. “We have nothing like the Arc. We have things like it, you know, cars, trains and boats. From what my grandmother said it seemed as if time has stalled.”

“Oh?” Kurt tightened his fingers around Blaine’s hand.

“Don’t get me wrong, we have innovation but nothing like this . . . no.” Again Blaine looked around him. He knew he lived in a cage. “They taught us about Earth, though an Earth very different than yours.”

“Yeah, we destroyed it. The ice caps melted and well you can imagine.”

“The corporations won the struggle?”

Kurt nodded.

Bobbing his head up and down, Blaine understood. “The history I know talked about groups fighting to prevent what you describe. Long before I was born, we learned to work with nature and the other races. Ning says it was like that when he was born. The people who brought them to the planet we approach allowed them to study and grow but anything that could end up on us leaving the planet, such a rockets, would not work.”

“How? If you have oil, gas of uranium, it should work.”

“The world has abundant resources but those things do not work as described in the old teachings. We still have computers, industry, and higher learning. Our combined societies have achieved some great things.”

“Dropped people there with no means of getting off. Sounds like a prison.”

Blaine rolled his shoulders. “Didn’t feel like it. We can move about and make our own lives. No one arrests us or forces us to do anything we did not want. Well beyond reason. There are laws.”

Kurt stared at Blaine with as intrusive look. “Then, we come along and what, panic?”

“No.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, the council convened and Quail wangled me into being an interpreter. I liked the idea.”

“Liked?”

“I knew it would bring me closer to you.”

“Then they knew?”

“Yes.”

“How . . . oh . . . never . . .” Kurt placed a hand on Blaine’s chest feeling the crystal beneath.

Pulling back ever so slightly Blaine looked suddenly worried.

A tweak of pain touched Kurt’s heart. With his other hand he enveloped the other boy in his arms and kissed him so hard Blaine almost fell backward. Grabbing onto Kurt for support, Blaine held on. They snogged amongst the trees for a long while and then Blaine took Kurt’s hand. With a wicked smile pulled him back to the hut. In the yellowish light of shiny crystals they danced close to another other humming song they both knew. Necking now and then their New Directions outfits slowly found their way leaving a trail along the hut’s floor.

Fifty odd minutes later a drop of moisture fell onto Blaine’s sweaty chest. Head pushed back against a pillow he delighted in the manner in which Kurt messaged his prostate. In the beginning, the length and girth of Kurt’s manhood penetrated Blaine with loving care and gentle consideration. Once Blaine became comfortable Kurt drove him like a race car driver shifting down and then reeved up again. With each thrust Blaine whimpered. Kurt made him feel more of a man he had ever felt before.

Legs resting on Kurt’s shoulders Kurt’s balls slapped against his buttock every so often. Hazel eyes stared at the teen rocking back and forth over top of him. The skin of his eyelids pulled down over those heavenly blue orbs removed Blaine’s view to the mirror to s since the weird manner of their first coupling he had longed for this. Now, an insatiable itch found itself being scratched and Blaine fought to make himself last as long as humanly possible.

In his present position Blaine’s erect, dripping cock stretched past the belly button. If he had been lying flat rather and not curled up like a croissant, his fat head would just come up short of the indent. In an attempt to decrease his heightened desires Blaine reached down to grip his scrotum and abruptly paused. Blue eyes highlighted by faint yellow light reflecting off them staring down at him. Rolling forward with his thrusts Kurt pressed his lips into Blaine’s. Lifting his head to match they kissed. With each lunge Kurt shot a puff of warm, shivering air into Blaine’s mouth.

A drive deep announced Kurt’s intentions and in response fingers pulled on a trembling, moist penis. A few seconds later Kurt made a suddenly hard plunge accompanied by a grunt like squeal into Blaine’s mouth. Pressing his lips greedily into Kurt, Blaine let all his inhibitions go. A couple of strokes later his toes curled up the moment a long stream of warn liquid burst from him. The boy on top became more intense as he pushed deeper causing another gush of liquid to escape Blaine’s quivering body. Splashing up against Kurt’s chest the boy on top of him jolted followed by a couple of deep, hard stabs. The tempo of the insertions did not end there. With teasing fun, Kurt slowed as the two gently kissed.

A drop of thick gooey liquid falling onto Blaine’s chest made the boy on the bottom giggle into Kurt’s mouth. Pulling his lips away, Kurt tucked his chin down to his chest and rolled his eyes. He softly chuckled when a hanging strand of goo gave way and fell. Arching his back, Kurt smiled down at Blaine.

With his cock gradually going soft, Kurt gently pulled out. Lowering Blaine’s legs, he kissed his way down to those large, luscious round balls. The warmth of a tongue caressing sensitive flesh titillated. Then, suddenly, Blaine grunted when Kurt’s full weight squished down on top of him. In respond the curly headed teen wrapped his arms around Kurt pulling him into deep, passionate kiss. Tongues dug into their months and lips squished around and rubbed across five o’clock shadow. Hands roamed down Kurt’s sweaty back finding his buttocks. Two finger wondered down into his crack causing Kurt to press his ass up like a cat.

Separating from Blaine’s blood enriched lips, Kurt hovered half an inch from the other boy’s mouth. His eyes closed and his head arched up ever so slightly to the left. Taking advantage of the moment, Blaine playfully bit Kurt’s chin followed by several kisses down the side of his neck.

“Oh, my,” Kurt barely moaned as his eyes locked on his lover.

Blaine gazed up with a twinkle in his shaded eyes. “You’re wonderful beautiful.”

Lifting himself, Kurt stared into those dreamy hazel globes. “Gods, Blaine you make me feel so . . . connected.”

Blaine grinned. “Can I be honest?”

Kurt’s forehead scrunched up. “Yes.”

Lifting his torso so his lips would link with Kurt’s chin first, Blaine replied, “That was far better than the last time.”

Looking surprised, Kurt did not know what to say. Blushing, he started to chuckle.

“When you first pressed into me, it felt so . . . how do I say this . . . as if you knew me with such depth I could do nothing but open up for you. You made me feel as if I have known you all my life and beyond.”

Looking thoughtful, Kurt’s head moved slightly to the left. “Our first, weird, time felt physical and genuine but then I knew something was missing.”

“Same here,” Blaine sounded breathless.

A big smile parted Kurt’s lips. “I found it tonight in you.”

Tenderly sucking those lips, Blaine retreated to say with a wild grin, “Inside me indeed.”

“I knew your body in the most intimate way. I . . .”

“Knew.”

“Yeah.”

“You liked it when I tickle you ass crack or find that sweet spot on your neck.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“We both had those dreams.”

“Yes, but it’s so hard to believe.”

“Do you remember seeing two men in the rain under a tree?”

Kurt nodded.

“They looked like us.” Blaine stared.

Kurt nodded again and yawned.

Moving his eyes ever so slightly so he could see more of Kurt’s shining blue eyes, Blaine said, “And two boys, like us, in school, married with kids and dying together.”

Kurt shook his head and rolling off to one side. Resting his head on Blaine’s shoulder, a finger played with his drying ejaculation on a clammy chest. Melting into the other boy’s grasp, Kurt found it hard to work through the conversation. The truth stared him in the face but the nagging tones in the back of his head challenged and pulled him this way and that.

Running his finger around Kurt’s ear and down his neck, Blaine smiled. “Kurt, I don’t know how but those dream were as real as this.”

Struggling to with his thoughts Kurt pulled Blaine closer.

The heart skipped a beat because somehow Blaine felt Kurt’s skin cool. Taking a left hand in his right, Blaine kissed it. “My darling, all that matters is that I loved you then and I love you now.”

“But how?”

“How is not important. We have one another.”

“And that makes me so happy but . . .”

“The universe works in strange ways.”

“It scares me.”

“Me too, but I want to try.”

Picking himself up so he looked down at the other boy, Kurt said, “I came to you to try. I can do nothing else Blaine. You’re my, everything.”

Kissing Kurt on the forehead while he squeezed the boy, Blaine felt warm all over. For several long minutes they enjoyed the silence and the warmth of each other’s company. Draped in each other’s arms they slowly drifted off to sleep.

A hand resting on his balls woke Blaine. The warm flesh just lay there like the head pressed into his shoulder. The rights side of his face curled up and then in the haze of a waking mind he saw two young men lying on a friend’s bed. Exhausted from dealing with cranky babies, they lay there naked except their underwear. At some point long fingers slipped under his waist band to find his favourite toys. The image caused the other side of Blaine’s dozing face rolling up into a full wicked grin.

Not wanting to wake Kurt, Blaine edged closer to the body beside him. Their second night together had been pure magic. All tension faded from his body leaving him feeling utterly content. He woke a couple of times and just happily lay there until sleep took him again. Flirting dreams came and went but he remembered no detail other than years of steadily growing love.

The first slivers of the day cycle lit seventy two’s forested bay. Without moving his head, Blaine looked to the door. Outside everything seemed so quiet though the birds would start chirping soon. He loved this moment of the morning where everything hovered on the edge of a slumber and being awake. The world seemed to pause but today he found a new enjoyment in the soft sounds of Kurt’s steady breathing.

The rays of the artificial sun cutting through the vegetation stretched. Strands of hair blocked one eye so he watched the coming of a new day with the other. Even then he looked through a haze of Kurt’s hair. Keeping with a person morning ritual, he closed his eyes and said a few words for his mom and brother. He gave up caring for his father a long time ago. Normally he would feel remorse but with Kurt at his side he felt whole for the first time in his life.

The fingers on his balls twitched and Blaine felt something stir down there. Rolling his head slowly to the left he pressed his lips into Kurt’s hairline. A second, a third and a forth followed before the boy beside him flinched. Lashes fluttered against hairs close to Blaine’s nipple and then he felt finger grip a stiffening penis.

Stretching his legs, Kurt yawned and then muttered, “You’re up early.”

Smiling, Blaine gently replied, “You slept with your hands on my balls. What do you expect?”

Picking his head up, Kurt looked sleepily puzzled. “Nah?”

“I’m not complaining.” Blaine’s voice had been so soft it could barely be heard.

Kurt yawned as he traced a line up a semi-hard appendage. “I . . . hope not.”

Thick, pink lips touched Kurt’s forehead again. Blaine suggested, “You can make it a habit if you want.”

“Maybe I will.” Kurt craned his neck so he looked up at Blaine. “Good morning?”

“Good morning to you, too.” Blaine kissed Kurt’s nose. The harmony of their breathing and the sensations in their chest told a story they only now really accepted.

They lay there enjoying several long moments and Kurt peered up at Blaine’s unshaven face. It needed to come off, but, at this moment, he did not care. “I could lay here all day.”

Blaine stroked the other boy’s hair. “That would be nice.”

“You think we could?” Kurt’s mouth pulled wide as he held in a yawn.

“None of that.”

“It took me a while to get to sleep last night.”

“Oh, really.”

“It was an exciting evening.”

“I would say so.”

“We sang together.”

“But we . . .”

“We said we were not going to speak about that.”

Blaine sighed. “But we . . .”

Swatting Blaine on the stomach, Kurt chided. “No, you don’t.”

Rolling his eyes, Blaine muttered, “Okay.”

“I enjoyed waking up to you kissing me,” Kurt purred.

“I bet you did.”

“Last night you showed great spirit.”

“I’m still a bit soar down there.”

“Sorry.”

“Why?” Stretching his neck, Blaine placed his lips against Kurt’s forehead. “I loved it. You know how to use that stick of yours Kurt Hummel.”

Kurt pushed himself up so he looked down at the gorgeous teen. “Are you hinting you want more?”

Grabbing Kurt’s face, Blaine hauled him into a deep, zealous kiss. Rolling onto of the fussy haired boy, Kurt spread Blaine’s arms out wide. The growing stiffness of the boy on the bottom became obvious as Kurt locked his lips on the side of Blaine’s neck. Pink, puffy fresh puckered over the stubble above the pulse as the tongue and the pressure started to drive Blaine wild. Trying to push the boy on top away with his head, mounds of curly hair pressed into Kurt’s face. Struggling to free his hands, Blaine loved the playful fighting.

Working his way back up to the ear, Kurt dragged his tongue along the hairline and up to the forehead. Racking down the nose and along a stubbly cheek, he ended his trek at the lips. Lightly placing them on Blaine’s mouth, Kurt pulled away when the other boy tried to make full contact. Mischievous torments stretched throbbing flesh.

Suddenly Blaine’s right hand pulled free and he reached up grasping Kurt’s hair. Gently pulling Kurt’s face their lips met he stuck his tongue into the narrow gap between Kurt’s teeth. Taken by the seriousness of the kiss, Kurt released Blaine’s other hand and it instantly wrapped around the boy on top. Down south, Blaine’s growing stiffness caused Kurt spread his legs wider. At that very moment a loud, deep rumble echoed within Kurt’s stomach.

Trying not to laugh, Blaine found it hard to breathe. Pushing Kurt up, Blaine could not miss Kurt’s mortified expression. Gazing up at the boy with soft, puppy eyes, Blaine stroked his lover’s cheek. Bending closer Kurt came into contact with Blaine’s thick, willing lips. Unpredictably Kurt’s stomach rumbled once again. Blaine’s demeanor broke and he began to hysterically laugh.

Head drooping, Kurt sighed and then started to giggle. Falling on top of Blaine he pressed his hair up into the other boy’s neck. He felt stupid but then he could not stop himself from laughing. An ardent moment shrunk away with the firm appendage down at his groin.

Sliding to the left and off of Blaine, Kurt buried his head into the other boy’s arm pit. “I knew I should have eaten something before we fell sleep.”

The size of Blaine’s smile stretched his lips to the limits. Still snickering, the words did not come out evenly. “I . . . thought you . . . had.”

Head rolling to the right, Kurt blew air into Blaine’s torso resulting in a high pitched squeal.

Amused, Blaine commented, “You devoured my sweet morsel with such greed.”

“Oh shut up.”

“Did you get hair suck between your teeth.”

“Blaine?”

“I did.”

“Blaine?”

The fussy haired boy rolled into Kurt and began to tickling him. The other boy curled up into a ball as he broke into laughter again. Trying to escape, Kurt pushed at Blaine the two started to toss about and with Blaine ending up on top. With Kurt writhing beneath him, Blaine kept up the attack.

“Okay, okay, I give in.” Kurt pleaded as he continued to get away.

Relenting, Blaine grinned and hazel locked on blue. “You’re so sexy, Kurt Hummel.”

“You’re such an ass, Blaine Anderson.” Panting, Kurt smiled as he head rolled to one side.

“You can have it any time you want.”

“You really like it, don’t you?”

Wiggled his butt Blaine beamed at those bountiful blue eyes.

Soaking in those honey brown orbs, Kurt whispered, “Let me look at my calendar and see if I can pencil you in.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind Blaine saw a teen leaning against metal locker staring at a thin rectangular thing in his hand. Looking amazingly like Kurt, the teen wore a hat which sort of resembled a peeked baseball cap. This boy noticed someone approach and made an excuse about something which had almost broken them apart. That Kurt then made a comment about schedules.

A puff of air in the face disturbed already messy hair. Pushing errant hair away from his eyes the impression of the vision made Blaine think. Gazing at Kurt he said in an inquisitive tone, “Are you telling me you’re going to schedule my amorous advances?”

Blinking, Kurt eyes shifted to somewhere else on Blaine’s body. Quivering skin erupted with goose bumps and Kurt’s puzzled grin turned into a frown. The fog of a distance memory touched him and somehow he recalled a boy in a blue suit jacket with red trim sitting crossed legged on the bed talking about sex.

“What?” Blaine felt the shudder.

“Nothing.”

“Kurt?”

“Blaine, these . . .” The boy abruptly stopped and pulled away.

Concerned, Blaine looked apprehensive, “Kurt?”

Pointing at the crystal hanging about Blaine’s neck, Kurt muttered, “It’s glowing?”

Head rolling down toward his chest Blaine stared at the glistening amber pendant. Running his hands through his hair his lips pulled tight. The look on Kurt’s face told him the dear boy remained uncomfortable with resent events. Edging closer, Blaine took Kurt’s left hand in his right and pressed them together against the trembling boy’s chest. Holding them there he gazed at Kurt wishing he could see those blue eyes.

The shift in Blaine’s breathing told Kurt the other boy became upset. Breathing a long, deep breath Kurt opened his eyes. Blue orbs stared up at hazel bringing a sense of calm to both of them. With his voice nervously pitched high, Kurt whispered, “What does it mean?”

Snuggling, Blaine glanced toward the door. He knew he could not tell the truth nor could he lie. “Ning and the others are chanting and it involves me.”

“Why?”

“I have no idea.”

Kurt sighed.

“They’ve been doing a lot of things concerning the both of us over the past few months.”

“Oh?”

“Dreams of hazel and blue.”

Kurt grinned.

A mournful groan gurgled in Blaine’s throat. “I guess, I’ve just become accustomed to it.”

“Honestly, it freaks me out.”

“I know.”

“Give me time.”

“All you need.”

“Okay.”

“Kurt, on the journey here, to the Arc, it would shimmer when they reached out to you.”

“It allowed them to . . .”

“Yes.”

“You once said you knew since you were a child.”

“I’ve always known someone dear to me was missing.” Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand. “All my life I have seen your enticing blue eyes of yours. When I was eleven it changed and the dreams grew into something . . . stronger . . . different . . . super vivid. I got majorly upset”

Intently listening, Kurt pumped his hand wrapped around Blaine’s hand. Blaine unburdened himself and Kurt did not want to spoil it. The look in those hazel eyes told all he needed.

Noting the affection, Blaine continued without a break. “My parents knew of this imaginary friend. Their words, not mine. Quail knew more. He told me not to be afraid and to embrace what I experienced. Then when your ships arrived, Ning and Quail explained to me they could arrange for me to meet the person behind those blue eyes. Not knowing anything better, I thought little of it. Now, with you right next to me, I feel a long tale is complete.”

Leaning forward Kurt brought his face closer to Blaine. Hovering there for a long few seconds their breathing became he only sound. Sharing their morning breath neither of the boys pulled away. The right side of Blaine’s face pushed up into a smirk and then he began to softly sing.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q_SGA46QxP4 Written and sung by Darren Criss. In my vision the words are sung very quietly.)

_I've been alone_  
_Surrounded by darkness_  
_I've seen how heartless_  
_The world can be_

_I've seen you crying_  
_You felt like it's hopeless_  
_I'll always do my best_  
_To make you see_

_Baby, you're not alone_  
_'Cause you're here with me_  
_And nothing's ever gonna bring us down_  
_'Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you_  
_And you know it's true_  
_It don't matter what'll come to be_  
_Our love is all we need to make it through..._

_Now I know it ain't easy_  
_But it ain't hard trying_  
_Everytime I see you smiling_  
_And I feel you so close to me..._  
_And you tell me:_

_Baby, you're not alone_  
_'Cause you're here with me_  
_And nothing's ever gonna bring us down_  
_'Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you_  
_And you know it's true_  
_It don't matter what'll come to be_  
_Our love is all we need to make it through..._

_I still have trouble_  
_I trip and stumble_  
_Trying to make sense of things sometimes..._

_I look for reasons_  
_But I don't need 'em_  
_All I need is to look in your eyes_  
_And I realize..._

_Baby, I'm not alone_  
_'Cause you're here with me_  
_And nothing's ever gonna take us down_  
_'Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you_  
_And you know it's true_  
_It don't matter what'll come to be_  
_Our love is all we need to make it through..._

_Oh, 'cause you're here with me_  
_And nothing's ever gonna bring us down_  
_Cause nothing, nothing, nothing_  
_Can keep me from lovin' you_  
_And you know it's true_  
_It don't matter what'll come to be_  
_You know our love is all we need_  
_Our love is all we need_  
_To make it through..._

The last breath of the final note curled over Kurt’s nose. Skin pressed against skin when their foreheads came to rest against each other. Eyes locked on one another the two soaked in the warmth the soft and emotional melody had created.

Lying, facing one another neither moving until Kurt rose up and rested his chin on Blaine chest. Water pooled around the edges of his eyes. With his heart pounding in his chest his Kurt fell into those dreamy eyes. Never had he heard someone sing so silently and with such haunting need. Somehow a soul called out through the ages creating a world with only two people on it.

A large drop of salty water fell from a lash onto his skin. From out of nowhere a finger brushed up against Kurt’s cheek. The gentle touched pulled away causing Kurt’s eyes to follow. Delicious, rosy lips wrapped around the finger as Blaine rolled his lips ever so slightly. Then the same hand lightly touched Kurt’s neck urging the mesmerized boy closer. Salty lips pressed up against Kurt’s with a soft, affectionate, slightly briny kiss.

Kurt sucked those lips even as the tears in Blaine’s eyes slid down to his cheek. A low growl vibrated up Blaine’s throat and in response Kurt wrapped his arms about Blaine pulling him into a deep embrace. Skin tinkled as the fruits of their individual manhood edged along each other’s legs announcing heightened appreciation for accelerating heartbeats.

Rolling Blaine over Kurt’s lips pressed even harder. Lightly biting inflamed flesh he pulled it into his mouth. Energized, the boys tossed each other about. When the edge of the bed threatened to ruin everything one of them tugged the other away from the plunge.

Flipping Kurt, Blaine pinned him and slowly edged his lips away from the other boy’s mouth go. The smile on his face spread so wide his cheeks pushed up into his eyes. Staring at Blaine with deep, overriding admiration his trepidations devolved into the background.

From above a mop of fussy hair descended upon Kurt bury his face. Playfully rubbing it back and forth, the dark hair boy dove for Kurt’s neck. Within seconds Kurt giggled and tried to free himself from the tickling of his throat. Suddenly, like an evil demon, a huge rumble broke the anticipatory silence. Feeling embarrassed Kurt could not prevent himself from bursting into laughter. Grinning, Blaine fell flat upon Kurt just in time to feel another rumble pass through Kurt’s belly.

“What a way to kill a mood,” Kurt sputtered as he tried to stop laughing.

Blaine’s head came up and he rolled off of Kurt. Staring into those sweet blue eyes, he whispered. “You could never kill my mood.”

“By the shape little Booboo here, I did.” Kurt gently patted Blaine’s manly sausage.

Blaine’s brows pressed together. “Booboo?”

“Sweet, Booboo.”

“Booboo? Really? Well maybe we need to feed him.”

“We got any of the meat stuff left.” Kurt looked toward the empty space where the piano had been. The plater sat on the top of the bookcase. “Those things you called strawberries might have seen a better day.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Blaine pouted.

Kurt winked. “I know.”

Rolling off of Kurt, Blaine cuddled up. “It’s getting light out there. Ning and the others will be preparing something to eat. We could join them.”

A trembling sigh escaped Kurt’s lips.

“We don’t have to.” Blaine responded. His voice had a slight edge to it.

“Yes, we do.”

“You sure?”

“Yes and besides Mr. Shu will be expecting us for the post mortem.”

“Do you think it will be bad?”

“If it’s like last time, who knows?”

“Maybe I should have stayed out of it.”

Kurt pulled himself up onto one elbow. Pressing his other hand into Blaine’s stomach the boy said in a firm voice, “Don’t even dare go there. You did great. We did great.”

Blaine frowned.


	29. Many Truths

Lieutenant Schuester paced back and forth. The serious look on his face reflected the magnitude of his thoughts. Wearing civilian clothes, the modern garments flowed about him as he ran his fingers through his dishevelled hair. The New Directions occupied the space prior to his less than stellar entry.

“So Wacky Sue is still wailing about last night.” Tina almost laughed. Her eyes followed the exasperated office.

“Well, wa-a-a-a-a to her,” Quinn piped up. The blond sat in the back row just behind Finn and on an angle to Rachel. Decked out in a refurbished modern outfit one leg crossed the other so she could tap the jock with her toe. 

Schuester shook his hand and destroying any style his hair retained. Swearing under his breath the turned away from the teens arrayed in front of him. 

Shaking her head, Sub lieutenant Pillsbury passed her eyes over the assembled teens. Sitting to the right, but within view of the large screen her pale cheeks looked flushed. “She’s pushing the letter of the rules.”

“What does that mean?” Rachel sat up straight. The motion stretched Finn’s arm as she pulled away from him. Wearing a dress of her own creations she pretended not to notice the looks from other girls. 

“It means she’s an ass,” Tina grumbled.

Santana shook her head “She can go sit on a tack.” 

“Why is she doing this?” Rachel moaned. 

“Easy Rachel, she’s forcing us to replace Kurt,” Mike stated with a sad face. 

Sitting on the piano stool with the trees at his back and Blaine at his side, Kurt wore a scarf to hide the lip bruises from the night before. Replace Kurt—the words stuck in his head like aloud bell. Slowly Kurt’s head fell because he knew it if came down to it he had only one choice.

Lips pulled together and then pushed out the teen beside Kurt kept his mouth shut. The ugly words uttered did not settle well. A group he belonged to back home went through the same thing as they spiralled to pieces. Blaine did everything he could to keep them together but fate played its cards tearing them apart. Finding the light of his soul made this far worse. Shaking his head Blaine felt frustrated.

“What?” Tina blurt out. She looked to Mike who sat beside her in the back row.

Sitting in the front row between Puckerman and Sam, Santana’s face grew angry. “That bitch!” 

“Santana?” Mr. Shu cautioned. 

“She is.” Santana let out loud sigh. Pointing at the screen she ranted on. “The cow would do anything to win and she got it right there with pointer nose and the poodle. We won last night and now she’s going to use their . . . whatever it is those two have been doing . . . to pull the rug out from under us.”

Playfully shaking his mop of curly hair in Kurt’s face brought a much needed smile to their faces. 

Rachel glared at Santana and then looked to Schuester. “Are you saying we could be disqualified?”

“With Kurt in seventy two she’s playing the odds,” Mike restated.

“And?” Mercedes held her hands out with a puzzled look on her face.

Mike rolled his eyes “She’s trying to force us to get a new member.”

Artie wheeled himself two feet ahead of where he has been sitting and turned to face the others. “The rules state there can be no substitutions going into the finals other than for sickness. We can’t replace Kurt.” 

Mike’s face fell as if he had forgotten.

“Kurt, start packing,” Santana demanded.

“Or puking,” Puckerman virtually completed the sentence.

“And Blaine?” Kurt glanced at the boy who held his left hand. 

Blaine followed the debate with both interest and distain. His presence alone created issues but for Kurt’s sake he kept his nose out of their politics. 

Puckerman glanced about and then said, “You get to wave at him over the monitor.”

Kurt’s hand on Blaine’s tightened. Forlorn blue eyes met hazel.

“Sylvester got the commanders to agree that Blaine had been a guest.” Schuester frowned and then a puff of air escaped his mouth. “She argued that he was not one of the ships compliment and thus wasn’t eligible to be a group member.”

“That’s bullshit” Kurt called out. Heat rose in his porcelain skin.

Tightening his grip on Kurt’s hand, Blaine gave the adorable boy a soft look. The ache in his chest confirmed what he already knew—Kurt faced a dilemma between love and passion. 

Ignoring Kurt, Rachel demanded. “Which means?”

“It means we’re eleven without Kurt,” Quinn flipped her wrist several times at the monitor.

“I know this girl with a great voice.” Puckerman injected with a proud smile.

Santana blurt out. “Only when she going . . . oh god . . . oh god . . . harder.” 

A hard look from Lauren caused Puckerman shrink back into his chair.

“No more of that,” Mr. Shu pointed at Santana. 

“We could poach from one of the losing teams,” Quinn suggested with an impish grin.

Rachel looked aghast. “You’ve got to be joking.” 

“We just can’t replace Kurt like a toy we pulled him off a shelf.” Artie spoke up. Sitting forward he glanced at the teens close to him and at the monitor. 

Quinn stared at Artie. “Yes we can.”

“Quinn, you have the mind of the fly. Remember the rules,” Tina shook her head at blond temptress. “He’s one of us,”

“They’re too cute to throw away,” Brittany said out of left field. She rarely spoke during one of their debates. 

Many eyes went her way. 

“We had better keep all that stuff Jake had us use,” Sam broke his silence, His voice had an edge to it.

“I’m not going to stand there and be laughed at because one of you dances through Kurt’s butt again,” Quinn complained. Pushing her hair from her eyes she did not looked pleased.

Stroking Kurt’s arm to get his attention Blaine leaned in and whispered something. Kurt wildly blushed in response.

“That won’t work, Artie,” Pillsbury commented, “Lieutenant Sylvester is pushing hard to have remote access unavailable.”

“Bugger her,” Tina grumbled.

“We’re going to try and block her,” Pillsbury looked to Schuester.

Puckerman yelled. “Stub your toe Kurt!”

“Noah, that helps nothing,” Lieutenant Pillsbury chided at the same moment she pushed long locks of red hair from her eyes. 

The reformed bully peeked at Finn for support who shrugged.

“Now what?” Tina looked concerned as she looked to her fellow teens.

Walking out to the center of the floor, Lieutenant Schuester glanced at Pillsbury. “Before I came here, the sub-lieutenant and I spoke to the captain. There’s going to be a hearing.”

“Hearing?” Mercedes questioned.

Santana grumbled, “To do what, see if Wacky had heart?”

Finn looked puzzled. “We’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Yeah, we won and the cow is no happy,” Puckerman stated before Finn’s sentence had ended. 

“This is stupid.” Tina shook her head.

“It was stupid to go down this path in the first place.” Quinn quibbled as she glanced about. “We’ve brought His wrath upon us.”

“More like the screaming lunacy of a deranged nut case who smokes to much wacky tobakee” Santana leaned forward as a finger circled her right ear as she rolled her eyes at Quinn.

Schuester stepped closer to the teens. “Santana, if you don’t have something constructive to say, keep a lid on it.”

“Oh-h-h-h, look who decided to grow some.” The Latino firebrand shot back. Things quickly degraded. 

Squinting at the pond Kurt tossed the pebble he had been holding in his right hand into the water. Ripples fanned out to the edged reminding Kurt of his own fears. The day had started off so well and then the ship soon hit an iceberg. When they logged in Rachel tried to take charge in Lieutenant Schuester’s absence. It made for several interesting comments.

Turning his head Kurt’s eyes feel upon a handsome and freshly shaved face. Thoughts went to more pleasant things such as waking up in Blaine’s masculine arms. Going to the waterfall their efforts of cleaning up became interrupted with kisses and some playful fun. Now those bushy brows pulled together as he watched the teens on the monitor engorged themselves in a heated conversation. 

Studying Blaine’s profile, Kurt could not stop himself from smiling. After two nights he knew every little aspect of the gorgeous man but then deep down he felt more. Sleeping with a hand pressed against that hairy chest Kurt’s dreams had been conflicted. Fear woke him several times but then he found his chest pressed into Blaine’s back and the teen’s right hand holding his left. With a soft sigh he drifted off until the next time he woke. 

Tightening his right hand about Kurt’s left hand, Blaine tilted his head and peered up at the boy he loved. Kurt’s pale skin had a reddish hue to it which made Blaine fell uncomfortable. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not.” Kurt sounded a little quieter but then the volume ramped up. “Listen to them?”

“Yes and it’s understandable.” Blaine lied to save Kurt any more distress.

“Understandable? They’re saying you don’t count. That’s crap!” Kurt’s volume rose.

Speaking calmly, Blaine asked, “Kurt, look at me.”

Complying, the adorable teen did not look happy. Blue eyes locked on hazel and Kurt’s anger eased. Feeling foolish he replied in a hushed tone, “Hi.”

Gazing up at those eyes from a lower angle, Blaine disliked seeing Kurt this way, “I am visitor and rules are rules.”

“They’re stupid rules.” Kurt huffed.

Frowning, Blaine watched the short moment of tranquility vanish. The fingers his left hand balled up but when he spoke his tone did not match his edgy temper. He perpetuated the fib just to reassure the person he adored. “They’re there for a reason and I accept the outcome.”

“But that means . . .”Kurt sighed.

“You would have to go back.” The words tasted foul on Blaine’s breath. 

Shaking his head, Kurt loudly announced, “No!”

“No, what?” Quinn demanded as he turned to monitor.

“Just let them be,” Mercedes reacted.

“Fat chance, potato puff.” Santana shot back. “None of this would have happened if . . .”

Tina cut the Latino girl off. “What is done is done. We can’t go back.”

Santana thrust a finger at Tina even though she stood more than an arm’s length away. “And it looks like we’re not going forward anyhow. Kurt has to get his head out of . . .”

Mercedes stood up. “Santana go back to where you belong, cleaning washrooms.” 

Shooting to her feet Santana stepped toward the large dark skinned girl. Schuester, Pillsbury and Lauren moved to intercept her. 

“Will you all shut up and sit down?!” Sam yelled as he stamped down to the main level. Pushing past Finn and Rachel his face flared red.

Everyone took note as their voices died away. People fell back into the chairs in disbelief.

“Listen to yourselves!” Sam turned in half circle waving his arms about. “Sylvester‘s going to win just because we spend so much time bitching at one another . . .”

Surprised, Kurt whispered to Blaine, “Sam never cusses.”

One shoulder came up as Blaine awkwardly shrugged.

“. . . us to be at one another throats.” Sam paced. The skin up his neck up to his ears flared red.

Holding up his hands, Mr. Shu stepped in front blond teen. “I think you made your point, Sam.”

“Far from it.” Sam set his hands on his hips. “We want to sing but we drive wedges between each other with our in-fighting and lust for success. Take Kurt, for example. You want him to sing but then you give him shit.”

“Sam, enough,” Mr. Shu waved a hand in front of Sam’s face to break his concentration.

The blond teen suddenly flashed deeper red. Looking about Sam returned to his seat where he hunched down.

Watching Kurt’s hand in his, Blaine’s eyes moved up the arm until he noticed a chin. Those wonderful lips stuck out and his brow furrowed. Hazel eyes suddenly leapt up to see blue staring back at him. The line about those blue orbs spoke of disapproval but the thumb stroking the back of Blaine’s hand told a very different story. Blaine wanted to stay in that story. Unfortunately, the New Directions verged on the edge of an implosion and Blaine had no idea how to help. 

In the corner of his eye Blaine noted the one called Rachel. The self-imposed dominant female held her back straight chewing on her long brunette air with shame filled her eyes. Her ambitious attitude grated on people but then she cared. He liked her but then she also frightened him. 

Finn hit Blaine as someone who lived his life in the land of non-committal. He hung on Rachel like a lost puppy dealing with her ever beck and call but then he flirted with Quinn. From what he witness big teen could be a leader when pushed. Regardless, only one word clearly represented Finn’s attitude toward for Blaine—asshole.

Artie? Blaine still did not know what to think of him. He spent most of his time in the peripheral of the group but boy, could he belt it out. The clarity of his tones and the strength of his voice made him the perfect lead singer. The wheelchair held him back but then Artie mastered the device making getting around easy. Constructing the Arc resulted from mastered engineering and science so, surely, they could fix his spine. Given time, he knew his friends could.

Everyone looked to Santana for an acid laced remark but Blaine watched the way she normally sat in the background. Every so often her façade would crack and anxieties would show. A fire cracker waiting to go off, Blaine would have to keep an eye on her.

The spicy Latino often sat next to or eyeing up the attractive and amusingly eccentric blond. Amongst the crowd of squabbling young adults she stood out as island of weird sanity. Blaine liked Brittany’s innocent remarks and naivety.

From Blaine’s viewpoint Quinn relayed on religion as a crutch. Observation soon proved she brought the Lord’s name to defend a position she could win any other way. While Blaine believed in higher power living with Ning had opened his eyes to a much larger reality.

The oriental dancer moved with incredible grace and skill. Mike intrigued Blaine. The curly haired teen hoped he could take lessons from him at some point. Quiet and unassuming, he sat through the worst of the arguments adding his voice only when strategically viable. 

Tina appeared to be Artie’s partner in crime but she hovered around Mike. Fiery but more controlled than Santana and Quinn, Blaine had noted her words when he had first been introduced. During practice she hovered close to his holographic projection. It unnerved Blaine in a flattering way.

The black girl had a mouth on her in two ways—one she could argue and two she could sing. More important, from Blaine’s perspective, Mercedes stood up for Kurt. She and the self-professed lead of the New Directions got along like hot oil and water. During a break yesterday the two laughed and joked and then when things heated up the gloves came off. Blaine did not know what to think of her. 

The larger girl, who stuck around the bully, appeared to be a calming factor when things heated up. Puckerman appeared to be sweet on Lauren and it gave her a lot of influence. From Blaine’s outlook it worked out well because she could reign Kurt’s tormentor in.

Puckerman had a mouth on him that Blaine wanted to slap shut. He made Blaine’s blood boil with his cutting remarks and constant trouble making. How the tough guy found himself in the New Directions stumped Blaine. The horrid teen constantly looking to Finn for approval indicating those two had a history.

The blond with the thick, pouty lips made Blaine happy. Shy and reserved, those types could be dangerous when provoked. Sam’s recent actions revealed an honest affection for Kurt and sense of justice. Blaine wanted to meet the cute and entertaining teen.

Regardless of his opinions of Kurt’s friends, for Blaine, it all focused on the teen he had given his virginity to. Those eyes, the way he spoke, sang and moved set Blaine’s heart on fire. He could stare at him all day and never be bored.

Heavy breathing caught Kurt’s attention. Sparkling blue eyes caught shaded brown and Kurt leaned in and said, “You seem distant.”

Hazel eyes went to the monitor where the officers redirected the discussion. Blaine blinked sweat out of his eyes. Some teens in the monitor talked with one another. “Thinking.”

“About me?”

“Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“I’ve been considering your friends.”

“Oh?”

“They’re a colourful bunch.”

“Yeah, but they care.”

Lowering his head so what his yes gazed up at the other boy, Blaine gave him a questioning look. “I remember a more opinionated comment yesterday?”

“Okay,” Kurt shrugged. “When they aren’t squabbling, I love being around them. They’re fun and make me feel safe. Rachel’s a sweetheart when she is not being an overbearing princess. If Santana would pull the broom out of here rump, she can be a pussy cat.”

A strong, accented voice echoed through the speakers. “I heard that Hummel!”

Several teens chuckled.

Kurt’s head snapped toward the monitor where he noticed two ladies staring at him with intent eyes. Shrinking back into Blaine he felt the other boy snickering. Smiling himself, Kurt could not deny the humour of the situation even as his cheeks flushed red. 

“Way to go Kurt,” Puckerman’s fist shot up into the air as if making a salute. “Give them another shot for good measure.”

“No, he won’t.” Finn puffed himself up in defense of his girlfriend.

Lauren’s head bobbed up and down. “I think Kurt had every right to state the obvious.” 

“Shut your cake ho . . .” Santana growled but shut her mouth when she saw movement in the corner of her eye.

Lieutenant Schuester stepped between the two but Lauren’s laughter broke everything up. Lauren could handle herself well enough and Santana did not always know when to back off. 

Raking his right through his hair Kurt whispered, “Well, I made a fool of myself?”

“We’ve all been there.” Blaine looked to the boy beside him and then kissed Kurt’s rosy cheek. “Does that make it better?”

“Yes.” Kurt beamed at Blaine.

“Oh, get a room?” Santana snarled.

“Okay,” Kurt winked at Blaine and rose.

Rachel yelled. “No!”

Glancing at the monitor with a confused look, Kurt bluntly retorted. “No, don’t get a room. Or no, I get all the solos.”

Santana, Quinn and Puckerman chuckled. The rest exchanged glances.

“Kurt . . . no don’t . . . oh, just sit.” Rachel fumbled. Her brows had pulled together.

Finn looked a little put out and then he turned his attention to the monitor. “Kurt, Sam is right. We’ve been asses.”

One of Blaine’s eyebrows went up.

“Speak for yourself.” Santana crumbled. 

Rachel gave her boyfriend a displeased looks as if saying, ‘you included me it that’.

Quinn giggled and then said, “Good one Finn. Stick us all in the mud why don’t you.”

The jock’s face gained a hard-edge as he turned to face Quinn. “Sometimes you’re such a piece of work!”

“Listen here you dense piece of wood,” Quinn’s eyes went from Finn to Rachel, “you couldn’t notice a better offer even if it stood before you naked.” 

“What?!” Rachel’s eyes went icy.

Finn’s face dropped. 

“We’re going to have a cat fight,” Puckerman push a hand into the air in front of him as if he tried to coax the jock into action.

“Screw off, Puck!” Finn yelled at Puckerman. 

“I’ve had it!” Artie roared. Giving his chair a strong push so it glided by itself he waved his arms. 

Chins dropped as Artie wheeled his chair toward the door. Ambition won out over anger as Behind Rachel shot forward. Finn reach out for her but she pushed his hand away. She called out, “Artie . . .”

“Holy crap,” the words escaped Kurt’s mouth at such a low volume he could barely hear himself.

Saddened by the turn of events the fussy hair boy’s heart. Singing last night excited Blaine even though he down played what he felt. He loved the song they sang with Rachel and interacting with Kurt for the crowd. What a shame?

“Artie?” Tina looked shocked. 

“Sorry Tina. You can only sit there and listen to all . . . and not have it rip into your chest. You can find yourself another singer.” Artie pushed the wheels and he rolled on. 

The sudden sound of a chair moving caused everyone to look, including Artie. Mike got up and ambled over to Artie with a blank look on his face. The boy nodded when his hands fell on the wheelchair’s handles. 

“Okay,” Schuester stated as he walked between Rachel and the two boys. “Why don’t we take a break and let everyone calm down.”

Slowly Mercedes walked over to Artie and Mike.

“Do you really want to do this?” Mr. Shu’s face dropped and then he through his hand in the air. “You will never get another chance like this.”

Youthful eyes passed over one another but no one said a word until Rachel turned to face them. “I can’t believe that after all the work we have done you want to throw it all away.”

Artie calmly replied. “Sylvester will win because we’re letting her. Well, I’m sick of it.”

“But?” Rachel sputtered.

“Your part of it Rachel,” Artie’s voice had an edge to it. 

Face going hard, Rachel defended herself. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” Artie shot back. “You make demands of us like you’re some fancy corporate diva.”

Santana and Quinn laughed.

Artie pointed at the Latino firebrand. “And you with your snarky remarks. Get a life and kiss Brittany. It’s not as if we don’t all know.”

“Way to go, Artie,” Puckerman blurt out and the blushed.

“Oh, shut up!” The Latino girl angrily glared but then her eyes shift to Brittany who looked back with those soft eyes.

Waving her arms, Pillsbury stepped into the fray. “This is getting us nowhere.”

“Yes it is.” Tina stood and walked over to join Artie and the others. “It’s airing all the vicious dirty laundry. Rachel, Santana and Quinn can stop going around behind everyone’s back.”

Mouth hanging open for a second, Rachel screeched, “Tina?”

“Include yourself in that,” Quinn shot back.

Santana erupted into one of her rants. “Listen here you left over noodle from a bad dinner than leave you hungry, you can . . .”

“Enough!” Schuester yelled. He paced between the two groups. “Stop being kids and grow up!”

Everyone stopped and stared.

Shaking his head, Mr. Shu went on. “I, we, Sub-lieutenant Pillsbury and myself, have fought hard to get you this room and to set up the competitions. We were pushing for a change in the curriculum long before you were put to sleep. We’re part of the minority who didn’t want to repeat what the corporations pushed on Earth. Other officers, including the captain, fought us all the way. Mr. Hummel proved our point when he sang in the coffee shop.”

Finn stepped in front of the lieutenant. Looking Schuester in the eyes, Finn asked, “Why didn’t you tell us this before?”

“He couldn’t,” Pillsbury answered. Her eyes scanned the room and then fell on Schuester. “We had to let you determine what you wanted and how to achieve it.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Kurt stared at Blaine. 

One bushy eyebrow went up while the other squished in toward the middle. Blaine simply shrugged.

“Kurt, the object was to teach you how to work as a group.” Lieutenant Schuester looked to Pillsbury and then the teens.

“Are you saying we have been part of an experiment?” Kurt stood up and walked toward the monitor. 

A bead of sweat rolled down Blaine’s back as his hand traveled with Kurt as far as it. Wiggling his fingers as his hand fell away, Blaine grinned as his eyes followed that ass in those tight pants. The warmth in his chest rose as if the admiration and love he felt had the strength of years rather than hours. His desire to be with Kurt pushed him in ways he had not expected. 

Pausing Kurt snuck a peak back and then held his left hand out. Sweat dripped from the handsome teen’s face. Kurt whispered, “Are you alright?”

Slipping his hand into Kurt’s, Blaine felt his stomach turn as a wave of dizziness rolled through him. In a low voice he replied, “The humidity’s getting to me.” 

“It won’t be long and then we can go for s swim.” Kurt bounced his shoulder lightly against Blaine before going back to the conversation with his friends He listened for a few seconds and then said, “Okay, I get it.” 

Tina looked puzzled and stepped away from Artie. “I don’t?” 

Schuester gave her with sympathy. “We all had to sign a contract with stiff penalties.”

“Your promotion and that of others.” Finn shook his head.

The two officers nodded.

Mercedes stood close to the two officers. She looked less than pleased. “We should have had a say.” 

“In hind sight, perhaps, but you have never experienced a true democracy.” Mr. Shu sort of smiled.

“What Jake said?” Blaine inquired. 

Kurt looked to Blaine and his eyes narrowed. Beads of sweat rolling down the other boy’s cheeks. 

Schuester’s head sank. “He was right.”

Pillsbury patted the lieutenant on the arm and then said, “You have to see things from our perspective. We all grew up in a world where the corporations dictated what you did and how you did it. They control elections and government. Will . . . Lieutenant Schuester almost lost his positon arguing.”

“That’s why Sylvester is so pissed at him,” Kurt stated.

The officers grinned. 

Artie glanced from Mr. Shu to Pillsbury. “Why?”

Nodding to the boy in the chair, Pillsbury replied, “The arts and sports, while very different, spur the imagination and help develop leadership skills and free thinking you will need when we get to our new home.”

“Song, dance, theatre, writing, tri-ball, baseball and that lot, are the things that makes a culture strong and unique. We can’t move out across the galaxy only to recreate what we left behind.” Schuester said to his students. Spreading his arms wide, he humbled himself. “I must apologize for not telling you but that would have been cheating.”

Teenage eyes passed around the room as they looked at one another as if seeking answers. Finally Finn offered the lieutenant his hand. “It might take us a while to understand but I, for one, I accept your apology.”

Taking the hand, Schuester smiled. Other teens stood and stepped forward.

Blaine nodded. A reprieve.

Walking up behind Finn, Rachel took the jock’s hand. She however gave Mr. Shu an odd look. “Does telling us mean we’re out?”

“Perhaps.” Pillsbury stated. She looked sideways at the lieutenant. “We’ll need to speak to the captain,”

Schuester nodded and then suddenly looked away to Lauren and Puckerman. The boy said something to her causing the girl to loudly command, “Tell them what you just joked to me about.”

All eyes went that way and the bully suddenly looked as if he might bolt.

“Tell them!” Lauren voice rose to a menacing level. Pushing her hand into Puckerman ribs he had to step to keep himself upright.

“Puck?” Lieutenant Schuester asked.

“Sylvester’s double-dealing.” Puckerman could not look at the other teens. “She telling her team what to do and how to do it. She giving them perks to get friends to screw up the other teams.”

A dark shadow crossed Santana’s face. “How do you know this?” 

Letting out a huge sigh Puckerman looked to Lauren who gravely nodded. Pulling himself up straight he said, “I’ve been telling her what you’ve been doing, planning and then Kurt sings in that strange way and everything falls apart. She’s become increasing desperate and Blaine has become her means to an end.”

Blue eyes fell on Blaine’s handsome but shocked face. Kurt squeezed his hand.

Santana lunged while yelling in her native tongue. Mike, Lauren and Sam restrained her. 

“Why?” Finn marched over to Puckerman. “Why betray your friends?”

Flushing red, Puckerman could not meet Finn’s eyes. “Sylvester caught me stealing from the crew’s storage area and she threatened to have me scrub out the reclaimers until we reached wherever we are going. I . . . I had no choice.”

“Fuck!” Finns’ arms went wide, “I thought you gave all that up.” 

Releasing Kurt’s hand Blaine waved his arms trying to get everyone’s attention. “Hey? Hey?”

Engrossed in Puckerman no one responded.

“You have better find a deep hole to hide in,” Santana stopped fighting but the guys held her fast. 

Holding his hand out, palms up Puckerman’s face had fallen. “I . . .”

Lauren cut the bully off. “Is there anything more?!” 

Head bobbing up and down, Puckerman choked, “No.”

Watching Blaine waving in an attempt to get their attentions Kurt’s voice rose to a high pitch.  
“Lieutenant Schuester!” 

Jerking as if he had been caught off guard Mr. Shu turned to face the monitor.

Surprised, Blaine’s thoughts stumbled but he manage to say in a clear and strong voice, “May I suggest something?”

“This isn’t the time,” The lieutenant looked haggard.

Mercedes asserted, “Let him speak.” 

Lieutenant Schuester looked defeated. “Okay, Blaine.”

Wiping the moisture from his forehead Blaine recommended, “Why not use this to our advantage.”

“What do you mean?” Artie rolled toward the monitor. His angry look melted into hope.

Quickly glancing at Kurt, Blaine responded, “Puckerman has been feeding Sylvester information. She wants you . . .”

“Us!” Kurt corrected Blaine.

“Right, us,” Blaine helplessly grinned, “to implode. Why not let her think we have.”


	30. Dinner

_Once I was afraid_   
_That I’d never find someone_   
_Emotion laced with erroneous intent_   
_Staring into the mirror_   
_The soul wounded itself_   
_The echoes of loneliness_   
_The heart pounds in the chest_   
_Ripples of misplaced time_   
_And an irregular path in the darkness_

_We expected a lot_   
_But we’re believers_   
_And we believe in someone’s magic_   
_And the mirror turns in on itself_   
_Opening the door to ourselves_

_A special kind of talking_   
_An honest way of listening_   
_Unafraid to laugh and cry_   
_Kindness and understanding_   
_Fun and excitement_   
_Someone who would lift a sad heart_   
_Joy of rediscovered sanity_   
_The light of a new day_   
_And the unravelling of hidden truth._

_We expected a lot_   
_But we’re believers_   
_And we believe in someone’s magic_   
_And the mirror turns in on itself_   
_Opening the door to ourselves_

_In spite of all the waiting_   
_All the loneliness_   
_All the almost giving up_   
_A reflection shines in the dark_   
_Souls face in the mirror_   
_And hearts beat as one_   
_Blue as blue stare back_   
_Somewhere far away he waits_   
_And wishes really do come true_

_We expected a lot_   
_But we’re believers_   
_And we believe in someone’s magic_   
_And the mirror turns in on itself_   
_Opening the door to ourselves_

_We expected a lot_   
_But we’re believers_   
_And we believe in someone’s magic_   
_And the mirror turns sacred truth_   
_It’s always been the two of us_

Youthful eyes stared at the vegetation where a dozen non-humans melted into the dense vegetation. Most of the time Kurt did not even know of their presence until he spotted movement. Large, tall, round and thin, Blaine’s friends came and went like feathers on the wind. When they first appeared Kurt tensed up and for a second he thought his voice would crack. That would have been embarrassing but Blaine’s hand squished in his reminded him of the fact he sang.

Eyes fluttered as the anxiety drained from Kurt allowing his mind to return to an enduring moment. After yesterday’s rehearsal Blaine introduced him to the song. The charming and talented teen wrote it and others on his journey to the Arc. Carefully stacked together on one of the cubicle shelves it took a great deal of inner strength to reveal them to Kurt. Fearing a negative reaction, Blaine delighted in Kurt’s flabbergasted response. That night, while Kurt memorized the words, Blaine explained the significance of emotions of the time. Later, in the privacy of the hut, they sang it together as a preamble to something very personal.

Friday dawned in its mechanical way with fresh enthusiasm coupled with heightened physical necessity. The day rolled on ending with Kurt’s Friday ritual. Being locked away in an unreal forest housed in a tin can floating in the depths interstellar space created issues but dinner went on. A wooden platform, a monitor and a cheery teen with fluffy hair added to the festive nature of the gathering.

When they first settled in they spoke about the usual ‘how had you’re week been’. This turned into a conversation about the game of deception the New Directions played. The kids did their parts by arguing in public about music related things but Jake had his concerns. One, lieutenant Sylvester would not take being made a fool of well and second, she may already know of Blaine’s suggestion.

Foster father and son used a finger code the two had developed so they could converse in the noisy mechanical areas of the vast ship. In turn Kurt whispered the translation to Blaine who watched with curious interest. Somewhere during what looked like complicated discussion Jake and Kurt burst into giggles. A deeply puzzled look resulted in Kurt revealing their personal little tale. The fussy haired boy had to smile.

A short, playful and vocal tit for tat between the mechanic and his helper followed. As the two sparred with one another Blaine snickered and added a comment here and there. Then Kurt asked Jake to sing and the adult calmly refused. Kurt used Blaine as a wedge to pressure Jake but in the end Blaine started to hum. Within seconds two young voices harmonized.

Leaning back in his chair Jake nodding and smiling. On the table in front of him rested a plate with a couple of thick cuts of a meal like substance, mashed potatoes and fresh vegetables. Lights flickered on the dark wall behind highlighting the edges of a picture to his right. The pin light shining down from above reflected off a glass half full of with clear liquid cast a truncated shadow on the table.

Sitting cross legged and knee to knee a platter of meat, something like bread and fruit sat before the teens along with a jug of water and two mugs. Kurt had to wonder where they got the food from because the manmade environment they lived in could not sustain the variety. In the end he decided blank innocence would be best.

Both teens wore loose fitting clothing which had been popular in the beginning of the twenty first century. Colourful to suit their moods, Kurt had cut off one of his pairs of pants rolling up the hem to the knees. The sweat sparkled on their forehead and cheeks went unnoticed as beads of moisture rolled down their backs.

Picking up his glass, Jake sipped the clear liquid within and then smiled at the teens watching him on the monitor. “That was marvelous boys. You two really have great voices.”

“You should have joined us,” Kurt said to Jake before drawing in a deep breath.

Jake leaned to one side as if he looked at the screen on his end at a different angle. “Your audience has left.”

Sneaking a quick peek at Kurt, Blaine quietly replied, “My friends.”

Nodding Jake said nothing but noticed Kurt tense up.

Feeling a little awkward, Blaine’s brow pushed together and then the asked Jake, “When are you going to play for us?”

Thankful they did to press the subject, Kurt felt much better. He needed to get over it but the mind, emotion and the body did not always cooperate. Gazing of the man on the monitor he questioned, “And sing?”

“Sing?” Jake frowned. “I can scare the leaves of trees.”

“You can’t be that bad.” Kurt lifted his head.

Quickly bobbing his head up and down, Jake replied, “Yes, I can.”

Kurt turned to Blaine as if seeking help.

One of Blaine’s furry eyebrows went up and then he gave Kurt a sideways look. “If Jake thinks he’ll kill cats, do we want him to shatter the hull?”

Wiggling his nose, Kurt objected, “Blaine?”

“All that cold air rushing in will just ruin my hair.” The younger of the two teens said with a straight face. Seven months Kurt’s junior, Blaine enjoyed himself.

Reaching up, Kurt weaved his hand through Blaine’s mass of curls with a gleeful smile. One boy leaned into the other with serious intent and then gently pecked the other on the cheek. On the monitor Jake laughed.

Gripping the hand pressed in his hair, Blaine impishly grinned at Kurt. “Do you ever pretend you’re somewhere else?”

“What do you mean?” Kurt looked confused as he pulled then entangled hands down to his lap.

“Play along with me for a bit,” The right half Blaine’s adorable face rose up producing wrinkles next a stunning hazel eye.

Looking to Jake, Kurt shrugged as his lips pushed to the left.

“Games of imagination are good for the soul.” Jake grinned as he cut into the meat on his plate.

Winking at Jake, Blaine glanced at Kurt. “I just want to pretend we’re sitting somewhere together with no walls between us.”

“Where?” Jake asked while chewing.

Glancing to his left, Blaine said, “Kurt, you know the ship?”

Letting out a puff of air, Kurt rolled his eyes. “Ok, I’ll play along. We’re at the Limabean on sixteen sitting against with windows looking out at the trees in the main hall.”

“Yum, a latte.” Jake held up his glass of water. “Even if it’s not real.”

“And we have something sweet to munch on.” Blaine picked up at piece of fruit and sucked it into his mouth. “Haven’t had anything gooey and dripping for months.”

Giving Blaine an inquisitive sideways look, Kurt purred. “Hummm . . . chocolate cookies,”

Licking his lips Blaine salivated. “Yum.”

“And . . . ah . . .” Taking a sip of from his water Kurt suddenly made a face.

“What?” Blaine’s brows pressed together.

Rolling his shoulders Kurt pushed his lips out. “This is . . . oh I don’t know. This just doesn’t feel real.”

Jake hunched his shoulders up and then sipped his drink before pushing a fork full of vegetables into his mouth.

Blaine sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Kurt responded with roguish innocence.

“For dragging you into something you obviously didn’t want to do.” Sad eyes watched Kurt.

Kurt stroked Blaine’s cheek. “I want it to be a real date with real coffee and real sweet things I can push into you face.”

Blaine chuckled and toyed with a piece of fruit. He playfully slipped it past his frown with a wink.

Blushing ever so slightly, Kurt averted his eyes. “We spent all those months in what . . . some dream filled daze with moments of something beyond reality. Now I’m holding your real hand, sitting beside a real pond and enjoying a dinner with my family.”

“Indeed.” Jake commented.

Kurt smiled at Jake and then looked down at the knee touching his. “Blaine, you helped me in ways you may never understand. I just want it to be as real as it can possibly be. Fantasy was fun but this is so much better.”

Leaning into Kurt, Blaine face shone bright. Suddenly he looked to Jake. “Promise me that date.”

“I don’t want to interrupt what the two may plan.” The mechanic sat back in his chair.

“Jake, you’re Kurt’s family and that makes you my family,” Blaine paused and stared into Kurt’s bright eyes. “That’s if you will accept me.”

Virtually jumping, the lean and pale teen pressed his mouth into Blaine thick pink lips. Blaine wrapped his arms about the other boy to keep his balance. Effortlessly he returned the kiss feeling the warmth grow within his chest. A word would have sufficed but this meant so much more.

The boy who initiated the contact slowly drew away. “Of course you’re family.”

“Blaine, I meant it when you were introduced to me.” Jake grinned from ear to ear.

Blaine wildly smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“So what’s next?” Jake sipped his drink as he eyes shifted between the teens. They stopped on a head of fluffy hair. “I know. Blaine, when you were a child we’re you always this proper.”

“You had a brother,” Kurt enthusiastically stared into those hazel eyes. “You must have gotten into all sorts of mischief?”

“Well, maybe . . .” A naughty grin stretched Blaine’s lips. He wondered how it had taken this long to get to twenty questions. “. . . but not really.”

Crossing his arms Jake had that ‘I’m waiting’ look on his face.

Blaine shrugged. “I was like any little boy. I played, got under feet and asked all sorts of stupid questions.”

“And?” Kurt leaned closer with a smirk.

“And what?” Blaine returned a blank look. “I went to school, learned the basics, discovered music and theatre and there is just lovable old me.”

Jake’s eyes rolled. “He’s playing with us, Kurt.”

Leering at the gorgeous teen next to him, one of Kurt’s eyes went wider.

“Okay, I got into some trouble and which kids wouldn’t?” He looked at Kurt. “And don’t tell me you were perfect.”

Jake laughed.

Not giving Kurt a chance for a rebuttal, Blaine carried on, “My brother went out of his way to blame me for his trouble making. I remember when I was seven and Cooper had to be, what thirteen or fourteen, he climbed up the outside of the house onto the narrow ledge. He dared me to come up after him and when I said no he got so pissed at me he fell off. He landed in my mom’s flower bed crushing the lot. He could not blame me because the neighbour saw the whole thing. Boy did he scream when dad tanned his hide.”

“I think that was the only time I saw him really get into trouble.” Blaine shook his head and the locks flew everywhere. “No, Mom gave him heck when he chased me about the backyard with a bucket of mud from the pool being dug. He dumped it over me and then rubbed it into my scalp.”

Narrow blue eyes gazed at the mass of hair on Blaine’s head.

Shrugging, Blaine rans his fingers through this mane. “I really should get this mowed. I’m starting to look like an unruly lawn after a long rain.”

“It looks fine Blaine.” Jake sipped his drink. “Gives you character.”

Chuckling, Blaine popped am small morsel in his mouth and then said, “Makes me look like a poodle according to some.”

“Well, you’re a poodle I happen to adore,” Kurt ran his hand through Blaine’s curly hair again.

“Arf, arf.” Blaine shook his head and panted with his tongue hanging out.

Rolling his head, Jake laughed.

Patting Blaine on the head, Kurt leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re such a sweetie.”

“Oh, keep going.” Blaine said with an impish look on his face. “I can use an ego boost,”

“You need an ego boost, oh come on.” Kurt lightly slapped Blaine on the shoulder.

“Ouch!” Blaine playfully pulled shaking his hair in Kurt’s face.

“You too are so good together,” Jake commented a she cut into his meat.

Innocently shrugging, Blaine gave Kurt a sheepish look. “How much have you told Jake about us?”

Eyebrows going up, Kurt replied, “He knows everything?”

“Everything?”

“E-e-e-every-y-y-y-thing-g-g-g.”

Blaine’s face instantly turned red.

Jake waved a finger at Kurt. “Kurt stop teasing the poor boy,”

Staring fondly at the teen beside him, Blaine felt the sweat rolling down his back. “Jake reminds me of my father before he got distant.”

“I barely remember my father.” Jake sat back with a thoughtful look on his face. “It seems decades ago.”

“It was,” Kurt chuckled.

“I guess so but not in that sense.” Jake‘s eyes went up toward the ceiling. “The last time I saw him he lay on the bed with a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other. Pathetic.”

“My dad changed when he found out I liked to suck dick.” Blaine spoke with a forthright tone.

Choking on his breath, Kurt glared at Blaine.

Returning an innocent look Blaine said with a shrug, “Well it’s true. I was barely thirteen. I guess he was not impressed when he found his youngest son pulling on his favourite toy while watching two men going at it.”

Mischievously Kurt boldly stated, “I like that toy. It . . .”

Jake rolled his eyes and held up a hand. “TMI.”

A reddish hue splayed out over Kurt’s porcelain skin.

“And you call me cute,” Blaine ran a finger along Kurt’s neck. “The funny thing was, he caught Cooper a couple of years before doing a lot more. The next morning I heard him congratulating my brother out of earshot of mom. But he took my computer away, grounded me and gave me a list of chores to last me the rest of my life.”

“He doesn’t sound like a nice man.” Kurt looked concerned.

“Before I figured out who I was, my dad would play ball with me or we would fixed thing around the house. I was kind of useless at it compared this boy,” Blaine pushed his knee into Kurt. “You know he figured out how to make that water fall into a shower without really thinking about it.”

“Kurt is a talented young man.” Jake smiled and then consumed a chunk of meat.

“Really now,” Blaine smirked, “I haven’t noticed.”

“You’re such an ass, Blaine Anderson,” Kurt gave the boy he venerated a stern but playful gaze. Inwardly he felt himself become weak. He loved the sound of those two words.

Blaine winked.

The boys could see Jake shaking his head and then he looked distant. “I remember when I was a kid, my mom would take me down to sea and I would watch the seagulls.”

“You saw the sea?” Kurt sounded surprised. He sat up straight with a look of amazement on his face.

Nodding, Jake smiled. “We lived a couple of hours away from a water reclamation facility. My mom worked for the civic government so that gave us privileges like a pass to the coast once in a while.”

Kurt leaned forward with an awed look on his face. “What was it like?”

“Big.” Jake played with food on his plate. “I wanted to jump into it but my mom told me not to.”

“Why?” Kurt looked confused.

“Pollution.” Jake sighed. “We stayed on the rocks. The sand was covered with all sorts of crap and the water had an oily sheen to it.”

Kurt looked disappointed and mouthed a silent word.

“When we get to my home, I’ll take you both to the ocean. It might be a bit chilly but you can swim in it.” Hazel eyes studied Kurt’s sad face. Blaine’s heart felt light.

Sucking in a long breath, Kurt made a face. “I can’t swim. I can float but not swim.”

The curly haired boy took Kurt’s left hand in his right and said, “I’ll teach you.”

Smiling back, Kurt said, “I told you my father would take me down to the local stream. We went there one day after a heavy rain and dad showed me a large pool held back by rocks and trash. He found a couple of flat pieces of wood and we played boat for a while. We pushed them around with sticks because he wouldn’t let me touch the water. Apparently it burned to the touch.”

Making a face, Blaine glanced at the calm, clear water a couple of meters away. “Earth sounds horrible?”

“If you read the histories, Earth was a paradise at one time. We ruined it because the rich and powerful would not listen.” Jake looked angry for a second. “If you go north of the line they have everything. The water is clean and there are trees and large tracks of untouched land. South of the line is . . . well it’s not fun.”

“Kurt told me a little bit about that. Sounds depressing.” Blaine looked to Kurt and then his expression changed. “Tell me something marvelous about where you once lived?”

Brows furrowing, Kurt looked puzzled.

“Surely something must have happened that surprised you?” Blaine’s head twisted to one side.

Sitting there for a long few seconds Kurt thought.

Blaine squeezed the handsome teen’s hand. “If this bothering you Kurt we can change the subject.”

“No . . . no . . . I’m enjoying this. It’s been a long time since I sat about talking family stuff.” Kurt looked to the monitor. “Well, until Jake came into my life.”

The mechanic smiled as he moved food around on his place with his knife and fork.

Messing up Kurt’s less than perfect hair, Blaine smirked. “So, this is what Friday night dinners are like?”

“For the most part but it’s kind of weird doing this through a camera.” Jake frowned and then took a long draft of water. Watching the two of them, he realized things may not be a rosy as they might like. Lost in their bliss, Kurt seemed unware of events happening behind the scenes. Lieutenant Sylvester aside, Doctor Hildebrand had a big say in what would happen. The things Jake could not speak about rested heavily on his heart.

“You could come here and join us?” Kurt offered with a grin.

Jake hid his real thoughts. “Maybe next week.”

“Am I invited?” Blaine mused.

Blue eyes shot a look at hazel. “Of course you’re invited, silly.”

“I was thinking of reading a book.” Blaine kept a straight face.

“You have . . .” Kurt rolled his eyes and then pushed his shoulder into the boy beside him while shaking his head. “You’re such a tease.”

“Me?” A hand slapped against Blaine’s chest. His shirt felt moist and his stomach not quite right.

“Oh, yeah, you,” Kurt grinned and then leaned in and kissed Blaine on the ear.

Grinning, Blaine quietly asked, “You were going to tell about something that surprised you growing up.”

“Snow,” Kurt blurt out.

Blaine’s brows pressed together. “Snow?”

“One day I woke up when my dad walked through the door with a funny look on his face. Telling me to dress warmly, which I thought was weird, he took me up to the roof and to my surprise it was white.” Kurt eyes brightly twinkled. “It was cold and wet and we threw it at one another. Together we rolled it up into balls and built what dad called a snow man. It was more like a snow child. It leaned to one side and was maybe up to my knee.”

Glancing down at Kurt’s knees, Blaine nodded. In response Kurt’s right hand cut across his leg at mid-calf.

“You short? Nay?” Straight faced Blaine turned his face upward. “Call yourself short when you have to go on my toes to see someone eye to eye.”

Making a face Kurt responded. “I didn’t get a real growth spurt until I was twelve.”

Snorting, Blaine sort of laughed. “I’m still waiting.”

Rustling that crimped hair, Kurt grinned at Blaine. “Short is adorable. I could just pick you up and a carry you in my pocket.”

“Gee, thanks,” Blaine’s face twisted.

Shoulders going up with a bright smile, Kurt kissed the back of Blaine’s hand. “Petite is . . .”

“Petite?!” Blaine objected.

Bobbed his head back and forth, Kurt smirked. “Compact makes me happy. I would never want to change anything about you.”

The right side of Blaine’s face curled up. “We have another outing then when we get to my home.”

“Oh?” Kurt looked concerned.

“I’ll have to take the two of you to the mountains.” Blaine looked pleased with the idea of being a tour guide, “The tallest ones have snow on them year round. One of the cities is built on the side of a mountain and has ski runs.”

“Ski runs?” Jake pushed his plate away. He had finished up the bulk of his meal while the boy chatted.

“Oh, sorry, never thought you may not know what it is.” Blaine looked apologetic. “You take specially made planks of wood and you strap them to your feet and glide down a steep slope covered in snow.”

Neither Kurt nor Jake said a word. They just gawked at one another. Finally, Jake inquired, “Is it hard to learn?”

Glancing at the monitor, Blaine replied, “It takes some time to get your balance and learn how to maneuver but it’s fun.”

“Is it dangerous?” Kurt quietly asked.

“I broke my leg when I was ten.” Blaine admitted.

Shaking his head Kurt said, “Nope, you’re not getting me on those things.”

Pouting, Blaine lowered his chin to his chest. “I’ll be there with you.”

“No, you don’t?” Kurt tapped Blaine on the arm. “Those sappy puppy eyes won’t work.”

Panting, Blaine whimpered and barked once or twice while rubbing his curly hair up against Kurt.

Howling with laughter, Jake shook his head. “I can’t wait to meet you in the flesh, Blaine.”

“That’s if my master here gives me enough leash,” Blaine stared at Kurt with big hazel eye and a smirk. “Arf, arf.”

Kurt literally melted at the sight. How could he say no to that sweet, pouty face? Resisting the desire to grasp those cheeks in his hands and planting a large wet one on Blaine, Kurt shyly smiled.

Pressing his knee into Kurt, Blaine gaze at that somewhat distorted handsome face. Pudgy cheeks did not match the boy’s lean body and Blaine could talk. His face had a roundness of left over baby fat as well. What would aging bring? Would they look like those couples he has seen in his dreams? He hoped they would because a thirty year old Kurt looked so delicious. At ninety he still looked fine. Blaine could only wish.

Kurt made a face. “I’m not going to fall on a mountain side so you two can laugh.”

Jake’s face lit up with amusement. “Blaine, I’ll go. Kurt can clean house while we’re gone.”

“What, you’re going to leave me doing the dishes?” Kurt looked shocked.

Jake spread his arms out wide. “Well, the last time went to a tri-ball game, you sat there reading.”

“What’s tri-ball?” Blaine asked with an amused look.

“A reason to read,” Kurt moaned.

Chuckling, Jake looked to Blaine. “Kurt isn’t much of a sports fan.”

Eyes brightening, Blaine replied, “I like football?”

“North American or European.” Jake asked.

Blaine looked perplexed and the light bulb went on. “The one where you rush more than actually us your feet.”

Kurt shook his head and glanced about.

Bemused by Kurt’s motions, Jake stated, “Ah, American. I used to watch the European League. The corporations kept the leagues going and would broadcast it to the slums.”

“Bread and circuses for the masses,” Kurt complained.

In a vague way Blaine sensed things from another time and place echoing in the back of his mind. One of the important winter holidays took place and someone Blaine knew to be himself surprised his estranged lover. The young man. Blaine knew to be Kurt, sat on the couch with his visiting father and his ex. Father and ex watched some sort of sporting event after making a bet. Blaine lost when Kurt lifted a magazine and started to read. A rush of vertigo washed up Blaine’s back as his eyes shifted to Kurt. He started to laugh.

“What?” Kurt made a face.

Embarrassed to speak about his real thoughts, Blaine said the first thing that came to mind, “I just remembered when Cooper took me to a football game when I was nine. Mom gave us money for food and I ate so much I puked all over his new jacket.”

His face pulling together, Kurt gave Blaine as ‘yuk’ look.

“When I was a kid, the family went to an old amusement park. It was not really all that great but it was a distraction,” Jake sipped his drink and the shifted in his chairs as if he crossed his legs. “I was on this ride and I hurled all over the operator below us.”

Eyes wide, Blaine tried not to snicker. “I puked on my dad once on a way to the next city. The speed of the train upset my stomach.”

“You two are gross,” Kurt complained. His face looked awful.

“And what’s your thrown up story?” Jake pointed at Kurt.

“I can’t believe you two. Joking about vomiting over dinner.” Pulling away Kurt’s face scrunched together. “What have I gotten myself into?”

Jake and Blaine broke out laughing. The fussy haired boy leaned into Kurt gripping his left hand tighter. Even though he felt bad Blaine could not stop himself. When the giggling ceased, he announced, “Kurt, I like Jake.”

“Who couldn’t” Kurt still looked at bit out of sorts. “But . . . gross.”

Smiling Blaine went on, “Jake, the way you spoke when I was first introduced to Kurt’s friends . . . I felt the sting of jealousy.”

“How so?” Jake asked as his eyes went to Kurt who looked at Blaine.

Rubbing Kurt’s left hand in both of his, Blaine shyly smiled. “Because Kurt has a father figure in his life.”

Kurt beamed for a brief second and then his expression hardened with sudden realization.

“Deep down I miss my father even though he had been a jerk for the last couple of years of his life. I love Ning but he has never really replaced my family. I don’t ever recall my dad sharing puke stories.” Blaine smirked while watching Kurt grimace. “He never made an effort to make friends of mine feel welcomed. Daniel, my dad, enjoyed his drink and arguing with Pam, my mom. He was only happy when Cooper stopped by. He fawned on my big brother, especially after my disgrace had become apparent.”

Kurt pouted and gave Blaine a sympathetic look.

Squeezing the hand he held, Blaine continued, “My mom was pretty . . . no beautiful. I don’t even have picture of her. That frame on the shelf is for her even though three is no picture in it. Every time I looked at it, I see her face.”

Kurt swallowed hard as he drew in a shaky breath. Squeezing Blaine’s hand he made sure he knew he would never be alone.

Glancing down at his hand holding Kurt’s he looking suddenly sad. “Cooper came home for a visit just before I . . .”

Kurt sucked in a hard breath and rubbed Blaine’s fingers.

Watery hazel instantly found blue. “A couple of day later the quake hit and then the wave roared up the narrow channel past the guardian islands to smash into the devastated city. We lived in a nice neighbourhood a kilometer from the beach and the wave went thirty five kilometers inland up the valley. When it receded most of the city had sank into the ocean.”

Staring at those wonderful hazel eyes Kurt felt numb. Then, with the greatest care, he reached up he wiped the tears from Blaine’s cheeks.

Pulling Kurt’s left hand to his lips, Blaine gently kissed it and then pressed it against his heart. “But I had you, be it only in a vision. I saw those two blue galaxies in yours whenever I closed my eyes and I felt wanted. I wish I could have told my mother I loved her one last time.”

All of a sudden Kurt wrapped his arms about Blaine and pulled him into a sobbing embrace.


	31. Sports

“What was that?” Blaine asked with a puzzled look on his face as he looked up from his notes. Sitting cross legged on a pillow, the position hiked the hem of his blue shorts up his thighs toward his crotch revealing well-toned legs. A loose fitting and colourful button down shirt clung to his back because of the humidity. Bear feet stuck out from under his legs.

“The Eagles just got a penalty.” Sam’s face filled the upper corner of the screen. Half lying and half sitting he stuffed his mouth with something sweet looking. 

Blaine scratched his head with the old style pen he wrote with. “Eagles?”

Finn snapped, “The blue team.” 

“We’re cheering for the Tigers,” Sam quickly added.

Finn quickly injected his thought on top of Sam. “The green team.”

Kurt cringed.

Glancing away from his notes Blaine blinked. His brow furrowed and then he scribbled something on the pad of paper resting on top of the book on his right knee. “What did he do?” 

“Fat ass tripped.” Kurt chided. Propped up by several pillows, his head lay against the skin of Blaine’s left thigh. He spoke without looking up from the old, hard covered book he read. Pandora’s Box opened when Finn and Sam got into a discussion about the tri-ball season at today’s choir practice. Supporting his adorable partner, Kurt struggled with the torture inflicted upon him.

Finn shifted in his cubicle. The top had been flipped up making it a large view screen. “Kurt, the Tigers are headed for the finals.”

“And that means what?” Kurt rolled his eyes as he nonchalantly turning a page. “You’re not?”

“There is no getting to him, Sam?” Finn complained with a shrug.

Blaine did not agree. Others just needed to know what interested the dear boy. He chuckled, because he could not see any of Kurt’s friends being into fashion. God’s, the way they dressed.

“Sing some Katty Parry and he’ll be happy.” Sam retorted.

“That dribbled? We have to because of . . .” Finn stopped and his head pulled back as if he suddenly realized something. He never finished the sentence.

Sam laughed with exchange between Kurt and Finn. “He’s not going to change, so you might as well give up.”

Grinning, Kurt knew the jock made a face. The tinniest motion of his head indicated his pleasure at Finn eating his words. Initially Kurt found it hard to think a game might actually help Blaine but then he noted how Finn’s chilly attitude thawed. 

The subtle shift in Kurt’s position caused Blaine glanced to his left. Placing his free hand on the boy’s shoulder he rubbed it ever so gently. Jake and an odd vision nailed it on the head—Kurt definitely had no fondness for sports. Prior to the game Blaine suggested Kurt go for a walk or lie on the bed to continue the book had has started the other day. It came as no surprise when Kurt set up shop right on top of him. 

Having Kurt beside him made Blaine immensely happy. Regardless of his suggestion, he would have missed him—terribly. Waking with Kurt, doing things with Kurt and then going to bed with him melted his heart. His chest ached every time Kurt vanished from view. Yesterday Kurt went into the hut and when he did not come back after ten minutes Blaine ran after him. The beautiful boy sat on the bed looking at sheet music. Ning and Quail laughed when the boys returned hand in hand. 

The embarrassing episode made Blaine think. He had not expected the pain thumping in his chest or the abysmal need he felt. Why had he gotten so excited? Was it healthy? Where had those nagging thoughts come from? To his distain, the skin of his right hand spoke of holding onto property. The idea of someone looking at Kurt through the wall created hard sentiment. Property? Did he own Kurt? People did not own people but the question hung there like a bad stink. Manipulation and control played upon the edges of stronger emotions driving Blaine nuts. 

Pounding confusion and a litany of endless ugly demands marred his thoughts. Agony struck seconds after a simply request passed Blaine’s lip. The mind and the heart fell into conflict. Part of him wanted to bind Kurt to him even if the other boy would not like it. Some other aspect chastised him for such thinking. Blaine found it all very disturbing. 

Then hazel locked with blue bringing instant tranquility. Drawing in a deep breath a single sentence came to mind had the wind picked it up and placed it at his feet—I honestly thought that I would never find real love. The words stunned Blaine and for a transitory second he saw two young men, as a couple, standing beside two young women taking vows. Friends and family appeared shocked as one mother reached out to another mother with an amazed look.

Even with the sound of the game and the chattering of Kurt’s friends in his ear, Blaine could not get those words out of his head. Sentiment beyond anything he had felt before welled up in his chest creating discomfort. Then, for a single beat of his heart, Blaine understood what Quail and Ning had talked about—joined souls finding one another again. All his life, every time he closed his eyes, Blaine felt the strange stirring of his spirit and scattered images. Two men in long coats meeting in the driving rain to steal a kiss under a tree. Young men hiding on the bank of a river flanked by the ancient tombs of Egypt hoping they would not be caught. A couple walked down a crowded street lined with towers of glass holding hands and speaking about the children they loved. The impossible could come true.

Somehow Kurt sensed Blaine’s inner tussle. Stretching his neck so he could sneak a peek at an adorable face with an uneven teenage spread of five o’clock shadow, Kurt suddenly looked concerned. Those dreamy eyes seemed distant. Brows pressing together as Kurt reached up gently placed a hand on the one pressed against his neck. His pretty mate gently entwined their fingers. Blue eyes narrowed and a phrase encroached upon Kurt’s thoughts—I am a work in progress. 

With a blink Kurt’s eyes focused on the handsome face hovering over him. One of his brows rested higher than the other and those stunning eyes hazel eyes stared out at nothing. Did the dear teen continue to brood over their earlier discussion? Blaine had made a valid point but Kurt, being Kurt, had his selfish agenda. He did not want to leave Blaine’s side for any amount of time. It could take three hours for the game to reach its boring end and what would he do? Read? Yes, he had a book he had never read before to keep him entertained but greed consumed hm. 

The stubborn thought made Kurt feel suddenly guilty. He had come to Blaine with a hidden agenda. Prior to permission being given, Captain Degras explained several thing to Kurt. Two items sat at the top of the list. First, the Arc’s passengers needed to become accustomed to their guests and second their guests had to comprehend life of the complex spacecraft. The officer explained the boy would be monitored through the bracelet and cameras. If things went well other teens and the aliens would be allowed to interact in the room leading to the airlock. The thirst part would be full integration. Kurt had become a reality show.

Stating the captain’s concerns to Blaine had not be easy. Kurt feared the worst but the cute teen took it all in stride. Thus began a process where the two teens and the aliens interacted with one another in the open. The language barrier offered the biggest challenge but in the end playing games worked the best. Blaine had a few old Earth board games and his friends played with some very different amusements. Very quickly Kurt learned the huge monstrosities, known as the g’uri, had incredible agility and a naughty sense of humour. Some of things Sagi said obviously did not get translated because Blaine blushed redder than Kurt had ever seen him. 

It felt liberating to get it all off his chest. The nerves of meeting, speaking and acting out countless fantasies vanished. Surprisingly, Kurt found himself enjoying the conversation interrupting his consideration of the written word. Being with Blaine as he interacted with his friends made Kurt see hope and even jealously. Sam and Blaine hit it off at singing practice. They joked and interacted with each other in a way Kurt could not. Sports and livestock bored him to death. 

Soft fingers dug under Kurt’s collar to tempt fate. Blaine smiled as the object of his affection scrunched his neck up and giggled. Without knowing how, Blaine just knew how to make the wonderful teen squirm.

Head rolling to the left Kurt tried to snatch a glimpse at the most endearing face in existence—other than his own—only to be interrupted by the screaming over the speakers. His eyes rolled and took the large book in both hands again. Regardless of his thoughts he felt security in Blaine’s presence. 

“Did you see that” Finn’s voice roared. “What a move and it got him square in the lane. What a play!”

The excitement pulled Blaine from Kurt but his hand remained there on a shoulder. Two fingers absently made circles beneath the fabric. “What happened?”

A blond head teen glanced away from the action. “Four quick sideway tosses and now they could score on both goals.”

“Okay,” Blaine’s tone revealed his confusion. “I get the part of playing with two balls and the greens have control of both but I don’t get what just happened. Isn’t he a ways from the goals?” 

“That’s the point Blaine.” Sam’s face became bigger as he leaned into the camera on his end. 

“He’s in the free zone. He can move into either zones two or three without being penalized while taking his entire line with him.” Finn explained as he watched the large player in green setting up his squad. 

“I still don’t get it?” Blaine admitted with a roll of his head and shoulders. “Wouldn’t it be easier to go for the blue goal? It’s closer.”

Finn’s eyes rolled. “Driving down into the red side will garner more points. If Karofsky plays it right he could charge down any lane flanked by blockers.”

A hand fell flat against the page with utterance of a name. As if by instinct, Blaine’s fingers found Kurt’s neck where they gently caressed the flesh behind the ear. Revulsion found itself replaced with a warm sensation in the center of Kurt’s chest.

“Blaine, you see the lane running between the red and blue zones?” Sam asked.

Blaine blew a puff of air at the back of Kurt’s head and then said, “It’s not very wide.”

“Yeah but it’s the best place to be.” Finn pointed at the monitor not realizing his hand did not translate to the screen Blaine looked at. “With the penalty, the blue team is short a charger for a couple of minutes. The green team only needs to stack the blockers against the red side for the first ten meters. After that they might be close enough to either kick or throw the ball at the goal.”

“If the greens can get it in the goal from zone three they score three points.” Sam sounded excited.

“Right and it they are in zone two, two points and one point for zone one.” One of Blaine’s eyebrows went up. The game fascinated him but the rules did not make sense.

“But if they can score from the lane, double the point.” Sam shook a fist beside his head as if excited.

“Yup and they go ahead,” Finn’s grinned from ear to ear.

“Followed by all that towel snapping in the locker room.” Kurt mused as his eye shifted to the next page. 

Finn grumbled. “Trust you to think of that, Hummel.” 

“Fat ass is out there isn’t he?” Kurt spat out the first two words.

“Kurt” Finn objected.

Circling his thumb against Kurt’s soft but clammy skin, Blaine whispered to him, “You really don’t like him?”

Chuckling, Kurt felt Blaine’s hand resting on his neck. Arching his head so he could see those lovely hazel eyes Kurt felt a bead of sweat roll down from his temple. In a quiet tone he said, “If real sunlight hit him, maybe he would turn to stone and then the birds can do their thing on him.”

Sam’s face pulled together. “What’s that Kurt?”

Absently replying Kurt turned the page. “It’s just something from the book.” 

Sam’s eyebrows pushed together. “What are you reading?”

“Lord of the Rings.” Kurt replies without looking at the monitor.

Finn’s eyes opened wide as he made a face. “What the hell is that?” 

“A series of three books written in the middle of the twentieth century.” Blaine stated. “A masterpiece of sword and sorcery.”

Kurt snickered. “Karofsky’s a fat troll.” 

Shaking his head, Finn rolled his eyes. “Sounds useless.”

Without as much as moving, Kurt replied, “Then we’re even. So is tri-ball.”

“Hey, guys, let’s not get . . .” Sam’s suddenly stopped and then yelled, “Damn, did you see that? Karofsky kicked it from zone three and scored.”

“Yes!” Finn yelled. His arms went up over his head.

Blaine reacted to the excitement jarring Kurt who just rolled his head as his living pillow gyrated. Blaine suddenly stopped and glanced at Kurt. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I would fall asleep against my dad when he watched the Sunday games.” Kurt waited for Blaine to settle down and then he rested his head back on the other boy’s thigh. 

Finn made a face and then he jumped to his feet. “What the fuck!”

“They called a penalty?” Sam shook his head.

“Why?” Blaine looked to the monitor and placed his hand against Kurt’s neck. “What now?”

Kurt injected, “A lot of pouting faces.” 

“No score.” Finn corrected and then swore a blue streak.

Laughing, Kurt said under his breath, “Stupid fat ass.”

“The captains are meeting with the officials.” Sam pointed out.

“Must be serious.” Finn looked upset. “You see what happened, Sam?”

Sam responded. “Need to wait for the replay.” 

Shaking his head, Finn cussed.

Kurt flipped the page. “Did he sent the blockers out too wide so they went off side? Any tackle would be a loss of six points.”

“Kurt . . .?” Sam sounded surprised.

Finn cut Sam off to finish the comment. “You understand tri-ball?”

Reading on, Kurt did not move. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I like it.”

Blaine smiled and twisted his fingers in the other boy’s hair.

“Nope, I’m still not going to a game?” Kurt injected without looking up.

Blaine quietly cooed. “I’ll supply the books.”

Moving his entire body do that he could see Blaine, Kurt did not have to say a word. 

“I guess that’s a no?” Sam commented. He cocked an eyebrow at Kurt.

His stomach rolling ever so slightly, Blaine leaned in and kissed Kurt on the temple. “I guess we don’t agree on everything.”

Kurt mouthed—l love you.

Blaine slowly winked.

Watching the game, Finn did not see the reaction between the young lovers. He commented to the words he heard. “You never well?” 

Settling his head back on Blaine’s thigh, Kurt said in an even tone, “Is that you or Rachel speaking?”

Finn did not reply and honestly, Kurt did not care if he did. The evening progressed as Kurt happily flipped pages comforted by the warmth of Blaine’s attentive touch. Enthusiastic teens yipped and some swore while Blaine tried to be respectful of Kurt’s presence. By the beginning of the second third Kurt knew he would be going to at least one game.

Near the end of the same third Ning’s arrival brought an abrupt pause to everything. The reptilian strolled up from the side to stand in front of the two lovers blocking Blaine’s view of the game. Then he squatted down to place a platter of tidbits and something to drink before the lads. The look on Finn’s face became an interesting combination of fear and wonder. Sam vanished from sight and a few seconds later his head appeared on the edge of screen. Narrow eyes watched the alien with hard intent.

The sight made Kurt chuckle even as a chill ran up his arms. Ning’s presence did not bother him as much as it had a few days ago but Quail still freaked him out. His skeleton form reminded Kurt of something from the old horror movies his friends forced his to watch. The gang got together on Saturday evenings after practice to do something cultural. The rules of the competition made some of them curious about arts of the era and the library had a fairly good collection of what people called the classics. When it came to horror, like sports, Kurt looked for something to read but rarely found it.

Friends chatted in the strange chirping language Kurt learned to accept. He still did not understand what transpired but it surprised him when Ning pointed at the monitor. Glancing up from Frodo making his way through the wilderness Kurt looked puzzled. Ning always appeared so stayed but his wild animations amused the boy. On the screen Sam no longer hid and Finn sat there with an odd look on his face.

A large rolling eye made Kurt shiver. The one facing him stared at Blaine and the other one the monitor caused acid to rise in his throat. The boy forced himself not to look away.

“What’s going on?” Finn broke his silence. His voice cracked on the second word.

Holding up his hands as if pleading with his human acquaintances to wait, Blaine and Ning continued to converse. The boy from a distant world seemed to press an issue causing both of Ning’s eyes swung toward him. The colour around the alien’s beak shifted ever so slightly and then he made motions as if he climbed something. The slurring chirping sounds elevated itself and then the reptile abruptly stopped. 

From Kurt’s perspective it looked to be a final statement. The fussy haired boy snorted and then grinned. Without fanfare, Ning turned and left leaving Finn and Sam wide eyed.

Making a face, Blaine looked down at Kurt and grinned and them mouthed—forgive me. Then he glanced at the monitor and said, “We were talking about the game?”

The book fell against Kurt’s chest and he blurt out, “What?!”

“He was interested in the game.” Blaine reiterated with a shrug.

Finn shook his head. “You know what he said?”

“He’s their interpreter.” Sam shook his head at Finn. “Dummy.”

“Oh?” Finn frowned. “Forgot.”

Blaine glanced at the monitor. “He said that the red team needs to push down through zone two and then swing into the blue back end.”

Three teens said nothing as their chins dropped. Finally Sam said in a confused tone, “How . . . what . . .?”

“It’s right though.” Finn swallowed. 

“He!” Blaine corrected. Telling the truth would have complicated things. He had no idea how to explain the fact Ning’s race had three sexes. 

Rolling his eyes Finn went on as if Blaine had not said a word, “If they grouped up in a section and charged along the zone boundary and swing down the lane.”

Sam questioned. “Do you have tri-ball on your world, Blaine?”

Shaking his head Finn went back to watching the game.

Wiggling his nose Blaine’s eyebrows dropped over his eyes. “Never heard of it up until a few days ago.”

“Then how?” Sam made a face.

“They’ve been accessing the computer hooked up to the monitor at night?” Kurt stated without looked away from his book.

Blaine suddenly looked down at his bedmate. The fingers caressing Kurt’s neck paused. 

“I’ve noticed Quail, Sagi and Ning working with the computer last night when I got up to . . . never mind.” Kurt shifted so his head resting on Blaine’s thigh. The fact the crystals hanging from their neck glowed would be shared with Blaine later. 

“They’re studying us?” Finn did not sound happy.

Blaine bluntly countered. “You’re studying them.”

“All’s fair, Finn.” Sam backed Blaine up. 

Kurt hid a smirk.

Finn grumbled, “It’s not right.”

The expression on Sam’s face hardened. “It’s not worth arguing. They’re here and there’s not much we can do about it.”

The jock grumbled and then cursed. The reds just scored.

Shaking his head, Sam asked Blaine. “What was your friend saying?”

Finn injected. “If you call that speaking?”

Not wanting to pick sides Blaine glanced down at Kurt and then responded to Sam. “Ning . . .”

Finn cut Blaine off. “It has a name?”

“Duh! You have one,” Kurt rolled his eyes and then started reading from the top of the next page.

“He’s my friend, and yes he had a name.” Blaine glared at Finn but looked away when he felt Kurt’s hand on his arm.

Kurt glanced away from his book at the monitor. “You’ll get used to it Jocko.”

Puffing himself up, Finn went back to the game where the scrum in the middle just broke up with the forward elements of the blue team raced into the second zone. Finn swore. 

Paying no attention to Finn, Sam asked, “What were all those motions about?”

“Ning was comparing tri-ball to a sport his people play.” Blaine stroked Kurt’s shoulder to let the other teen to know he cared.

“What’s it like?” Sam inquired with an inquisitive look.

Smiling, Blaine said, “It involves climbing a one hundred meter spire with several over hanging levels.” 

“Doesn’t sound hard,” Finn sounded arrogantly superior.

“I’ve seen it played.” Blaine felt like rolling his eyes but refused. “There are four teams of twenty each. The teams is divided into ten ranks of two. The pairs are bound together by one leg and arm. They have to carry something like a ball up the side of the spire by passing it from rank to rank. One rank can only carry if for so long. They use their beaks to help climb.”

The image of Sam seemed to step back. “Sounds strenuous.”

“Sounds stupid.” Finn smashed his fist into something unseen. Someone not wearing green scored.

“They take it very serious. It involves full body contact and is rather acrobatic.” Blaine picked up a piece of bread and ripped it into a smaller segments. Popping part in his mouth, he offered the other part of Kurt who took it and pushed it between his lips.

“Sounds more like an orgy?” Finn made a face.

Without looking up from his book, Kurt mused, “Don’t let Rachel know you’ve been to an orgy.”

The jock’s face hardened.

“I went to a few matches.” Blaine’s head bobbed up and down. “It takes a lot of skill.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Finn shot back. He leaned forward and then suddenly jumped up and down 

“What happened?” Sam swung away from the camera revealing the back of his blond head to the watching lovers. On the two thirds of the screen occupied by the game a huge pile of flesh and padding filled the green zone two. Officials waved their arms and trotted over to clean up the mess. 

Finn angrily replied, “The blues swiped both balls from Karofsky.”

Sam cussed.

Leaning forward while trying not to disrupt Kurt, Blaine questioned, “What does that mean?”

“Sweetie, it means it’s going to be a big, messy free-for-all for the next five minutes. Three balls in play, no zone restrictions and lots of scoring.” Kurt had not moved. “Karofsky’s a dumb ass.”

Trying to describe the rare and often deciding factor of the game dragged Blaine deeper into the foul world of professional sports. Well, as professional at it could get on a space ship with fifty thousand teenagers. Kurt held his tongue as he became lost in the tale of something called hobbits trying to find an old man with a pointed hat. As a child Kurt read some of these old tales. Burt spend years looking to for complete series. 

A couple of hours later, Kurt thanked his lucky stars he survived the sorrowful event. Finn cursed a blue streak when the greens came in a distant third. Kurt could not be happier because he fat ass troll would be getting an ear full in the locker room. 

Blaine kept his promise and helped Kurt with his pitiful stroke and lack of coordination. The novice got frustrated with himself but Blaine smiled and urged him on with compassionate encouragement. To be honest, Kurt felt jealous. The curly haired boy took to water like a fish and he felt like an idiot. Somewhere in the deeper part of the pond Blaine swam laps. If it kept that heavenly body tight Kurt did not mind.

Haplessly floating on the on his back in the high density water he listened for the sound of splashing water. Every so often Blaine veered toward Kurt like a shark out for the kill. It usually ended in violent splashing followed by a quick hug and a kiss. One day Kurt hoped to join Blaine but for now he relished the idea his feet could touch the bottom. 

Thoughts rolled about his mind as he took the time to think of the past couple of days. The more they spent time together the more Kurt felt they would develop a true relationship. Jake supported Blaine as did Sam, Tina, Artie, Brittany, Mercedes and Mike. His friends from the New Direction always said hello when they signed on for practice. Sam, Tina with Artie and Mercedes called them for private chats. The topic usually circled and Blaine and his friends and yes, Kurt felt envious. Still, he could not blame them. Blaine could steal anyone’s attention. 

The rest of the New Directions revealed a mixture of cool acceptance to vailed hostility. Aliens aside, Kurt could sympathize because the adorable fussy haired teen had huge talent which frightened some. While Rachel treated Blaine well, Kurt noted the sharpness in her eyes every time Blaine sang. Santana rarely liked anything new and continued to put up an argument for the sake of her all-important image. Finn had given the darling boy a stiff gaze but, today, Kurt witnessed a crack in the armour. Puckerman remained Puckerman even after his startling admission. The jock and Lauren kept an eye on him as he continued to play his role of snitch. 

To everyone’s surprise, Mr. Shu managed to push the date of the hearing back. He argued that Blaine and their guests had in fact been passengers of the Arc. For over a year Blaine had been interacting with the crew on the scout and later the senior officers of the Arc. Lieutenant Sylvester countered with hard opinions and fear mongering. It all boiled to a head when Pillsbury threw in the racism card. 

Jake told Kurt and Blaine about the discussions before the game started. Schuester and Pillsbury involved him as a character witness on Blaine’s behalf. This made Kurt wonder since Jake did not really know Blaine. They could have asked Kurt but then Sylvester would have called him biased. What about the captain? He had been so amenable to things prior to Blaine arriving at the Arc. What changed?

In time they would allow the cute, curly headed boy to exit this place. The thought actually scared Kurt because it would change the little life they shared. The gorgeous and charming teen would become outrageously popular and equally a subject of scorn. The two had spoken about Kurt’s fears at some length. Kurt did not want Blaine to suffer what he had. What if Karofsky beat Blaine up? Would Finn always be an asshole to him? What if those who watched at this moment call them both names? In this place they lived like animals in a zoo. Once past the airlock, fear may consume the mob. 

From out of nowhere a mass of dripping and stringy hair rose up out of the liquid shocking Kurt. Gasping for air, Blaine wrapped his arms about boyfriend and the weight dragged Kurt down. Blaine’s body quaked and regardless of the water he radiated abnormally high heat. Dark rings under those hazel eyes made him look old. Then, without warning, Blaine’s stomach heaved spewing vomit against the side of Kurt’s face and over his shoulder.


	32. Histrionics

Kurt whirled about as his hands came up to the side of his head. Turbulent emotions reminded him his mother’s death. Unruly, never sentiment cascaded through a heart which did not really understand. Old enough to recognise the spoken word and to appreciate its meaning, yet too young to comprehend the complexities of the heart’s nagging uneasiness. It seeped through the chest into the arms and legs like a warm bath going cold. Subtle in its meanderings, logic eventually began to grasp the reality of what occurred.

The spreading numbness bewildered the mind of the young boy standing there with his father’s hand on his shoulder. Barely able to see over the edge of the hospital bed, his mother had stubbornly inched over so she could see her son’s gorgeous eyes. A frail, boney hand rested at the lip of the mattress where it fell off into the abyss. Plump little fingers lightly wrapped ever so gently about her bend forefinger. The boy’s one true inheritance stared at him with tenderness mixed with immeasurable pain. She had been so robust and caring then six months later she had become a fragile shadow of herself.

Crouching down, Kurt balanced himself on the balls of his feet as his hands slapped against his cheeks. Twigs and leaves hung from his hair and a scape marred his bicep and thigh. Drawing his fingers down his damp skip left white streaks. Salty water beaded by the bridge of his nose to the other side of his eyes. The blue orbs looked cloudy as specks of grey intruded on faint green highlights. Two moist trails ran down his cheek and down to his chin.

The death of the woman who brought him life did not compare to what he suffered now. His current miseries felt heavy and hard and disastrous. It lay within the depths of chest and festered in his soul. His heart lay in tatters cast about in a huge range of conflicting emotion. After months of longing he had finally held his prince and now it all hung on a fragile thread. The thin cord cut into his chest threatening to crush the future. With each moan the sharp and unfettered emotion rose and fell like bubbled in a pot. The steam rising into the air became those things he could not hold onto. Soon the pot would be dry and then what?

Alone in the strange lands at the center of seventy two, the comfort he had found vanished when a warm mess splashed over the wide of his face. Time no longer had meaning and the dimming of the lights overhead provided the only hint of its passage. The brain barely registered the subtle shifts as a young mind focussed on a monitor sitting on a rock. A blinking light on the side of the monitor testified to an unanswered plea. Frustration magnified with each little wink. Kurt had given up yelling at the device.

A wail echoed across the pond and unfathomable dread gripped the teen. Kurt frantically spun around using a hand to steady himself. An already pained heart plunged into the stomach. Wringing his fingers together the boy pulled his lips in as he tried to steel himself. A trembling body made it virtually impossible and he suddenly looked down into the still water. Staring through red ringed, teary eyes he looked awful and did not care. Naked except the mid-thigh length shorts, he paid little attention to the feeling of the damp fabric pulled tight across his buttock.

Incapable of a coherent thought, the boy abruptly shot up to his full height. Throwing his arms wide he took a single step and then hunched down again. Once again he slowly he glanced toward the hut where a strange green radiance illuminated the entrance. All his dreams lay beyond the threshold but at the first real sign of serious trouble his feet carried him away into the trees. He ran and ran until a fake stone wall stood in front of him. Screaming at the top of his lungs, the roar of the blood rushing past his ears matched the eruption in his chest. Wild abandon had taken him and now he felt the guilt gnawing at his spirit.

No longer blinded by hysteria, Kurt somehow made his way to the computer by the pond. There he remained, making, so far, unanswered demands of the modern device. When no one immediately responded he smashed his fists down onto the keyboard tray. The large device waggled back and forth but kept its place. Heat rolled through his body accompanied with an unsettling chill.

Seconds, minutes, hours, Kurt did not know but his frazzled mind noted change in the static. Kurt jumped to his feet squealing, “Jake!”

Something moved in a chamber similar to the one Kurt had normally slept in. The crew did not get personalized cubicles like the passengers but lived in barracks with stacked sleeping pods. The mechanic groaned. Obscured by a blanket of shadow and dim, the mechanic rubbed his eyes as he yawned. In all innocence, Jake asked, “What . . . time . . . is it?”

“He’s . . . I don’t know. He’s . . . vomiting . . . I don’t know . . . Jake what do I do?” Kurt sputtered. The volume and pitch changed with each syllable.

“Woo!” Jake’s head moved within the darkness. Dim light flashed across his unshaven face revealing the bags under his eyes. “Hold on kid.”

Smearing the sweat from his brow with his forearm. Barely giving his foster-father time to think. Kurt yelled into the monitor. “He’s . . . really . . . sick.”

“What?” Jake shot up in his bed thumping his head on something. Stifling a choice word, he fell backward. “Wait! Slow down.”

“You have to get Owen.”

“Kurt?”

“He’s throwing up all over the place.”

“Who?”

“Blaine!”

The expression on Jake’s face changed. Blinking back another yawn he touched something above him and the lights grew brighter revealing more detail. Leaning to one side he rolled his shoulder and the light flashed on a golden chain pulling down past his collarbone. Rubbing his eyes, he pulled his fingers down this face. Less than two hours of sleep wore on him.

“Jake?” Kurt almost screamed.

“Okay Kurt,” Jakes fingers opened so he could see Kurt. Dragging his hands down his cheeks, Jake pulled himself up revealing his full face from his naked shoulders up.

Staring the monitor with wide, frightened eyes, Kurt’s arms went wide. “Fuck. Do something!”

This must be serious because Kurt rarely swore. Holding up a hand, Jake softly said, “Calm down and take your time.”

“He’s . . .” Kurt shook his hands out in front of him. “All they can do is sit about . . . fuck’n . . . chanting.”

With the fog of sleep still swirled in his head, Jake looked puzzled. “Who?”

“Those bloody aliens.” Kurt started pace and swear under his breath. “Ning put a cold cloth on his head but that’s it. They’re . . . just . . . damn it I have no idea . . . Fuck! . . . He’s burning up!”

Scooting over to the edge of the bed, Jake’s got closer to the camera. Stifling at yawn he rubbed his right eye. “Let me find somewhere private.”

“Jake?!”

“Woo, bucko. Calm down.”

“Call the god damned doctor!”

For a second it looked as if Jake might lay into Kurt but then his facial muscles relaxed. Without a word he walked off. From Kurt’s angle Jake stumbled down the row of shadowy bunks.

“Jake!” Kurt yelled after the mechanic. Hands going up over his head, the teen paced in a circle like a caged animal. What if Blaine died? The thought lift him listless and very much aware of the pain pulsing behind his right eye. Whenever it stuck the sharpness caused Kurt to freeze in place. A fist would curl up or he would cup his head in his hands.

Kicking the plants growing at along edge of the wooden platform did not make him feel any better. Nor did biting his lower lip. With no idea what to do as his eyes kept drifting to the hut and that eerie green radiance. A large shape in the door caused his stomach to turn over. One of the huge brutes stood there for a moment and then trotted over to one of the other huts. Behind it a tall skinny form stooped and poked its head out of the entrance. The two conversed and then the big one marched off into the bushes.

“Kurt?” Jake’s voice broke the tense and seemingly endless silence.

Startled, Kurt stepped back almost losing his balance on the wooden deck. Spinning around on one heel, the monitor looked brighter than it had before. The camera angle focused on a light brown shirt being pulled down over Jake’s round and hairy stomach. With a huff the man plunked himself down the toilet.

“Jake, what do I . . . do?” Pressing his hands against his eyes, the boy shifted as he lips pulled in making is face look gaunt. Biting his lip, Kurt moaned, “Blaine’s . . . dying?”

One word forced the mechanic to sit upright as he gasped for air. Fighting back deep emotion Jake gripped his padded shirt and his hand instantly thumped with muscle pressing against ribcage. Without thinking he thrust his free hand out. It smashed into the screen on his end. How he wanted to hold the youth and comfort him.

The boy unconsciously strode toward the monitor. One of his hands came up and then fell. An abrupt intake of air disrupted the sharpness of the pain shooting through his shoulders and chest.

The hand resting against Jake’s chest balled pulling the fabric tight. Lowering his head as if to pray he spoke in a firm but calm tone. “Are you sure?”

Lowering his head Kurt blubbered, “Jake, I don’t know . . . I just don’t know. What will I . . .”

“It won’t happen.” A calm mind grabbed control of fraying emotions. At this moment Kurt did not need to see how unraveled Jake felt.

“How the hell do you know?!” Kurt screamed. The colour suddenly drained from his face giving his skin a translucent affect. He started to cry.

Jake’s heart melting at the sight. The boy who had become part of his family could not be consoled. Holding his emotions deep in his chest a single word forcefully erupted from his mouth, “Kurt! Hysterics won’t help.”

The boy’s head came up and his brows furrowed. A shiver ran down his back causing him to glance back toward the hut. One of the reptiles silhouetted against a green radiance trotted out of the hut. Carrying something his hands he glanced to his right. One of the tall things moved into the glare and stopped. Pulling itself upright, Kurt felt its eyes upon him. The crystal about its neck twinkled light green.

The boy nervously shuddered. Shuffling backward Kurt stumbled and fell to his knees. “Fuck . . . fuck . . . fuckiety fuck!”

Reacting as if he could help the boy, Jake called to him, “Kurt? Are you alright?”

“Something has to be done. Blaine’s in there and . . . hell . . . where’s Owen?!”

“Kurt, get hold of yourself.”

“Where’s the god damned doctor!”

“Being a wreck won’t help anything.”

Unable to hold the stare, blue eyes went every direction including cross eyed. Quakes rocked his body as he felt emotion welling up in him again. Part of him knew he had thrown fairness out the window. He loved Jake but he loved Blaine in a way he could barely explain to himself. Culpability pinched at his heart driving his down into a spiral. A shaky hand rode through his hair coming out wet. The humidity made Kurt feel like a chicken basting in an oven. With no one to hold his hand the likes Karofsky would have their way with him.

From out of nowhere, a puff of artificial wind blew across the pond swirling the grasses making a soft sound. Rolling up Kurt’s spine it circling the ears a distraught boy heard faint musical words.

_Never knew, I could feel like this._

_I've never seen the sky before._

_Want to vanish inside your kiss_

_Every day I love you more and more_

Kurt gasped. Pulling his lips in, a snivelling boy drew in a deep breath. Exhaling removed the despair cluttering his lungs and heart providing Kurt a hint of optimism. Eye shifted and provided an upside down somewhat sideways view of the hut. Somehow a sick boy reached out with loving tones.

With no way to know what Kurt endured Jake studied the teen. The hand pressing against the canyon of his chest pulsed with the each beat of his heart. Feeling useless, a tear spilled down his unshaven face. Letting out a short sigh, he softly pleaded, “Kurt, please look at me.”

Dabbing his eyes, Kurt sort of grinned.

Relief flashed across Jake’s face as he noted the relaxed nature of the teen. To keep both of them from spiralling into a dark place, he said in a low tone, “I love you, Kurt.”

For the first time since Blaine first threw up, Kurt smiled an honest and warm smile. While not Blaine nor his father, Kurt could not deny what those words meant. In a soft, almost silent voice he responded, “I love you too.”

“Now take that love and use it.” Jake’s tone came out just above a whisper. “Give your heart to Blaine.”

Shifting his weight back onto his heels, Kurt reveled fond feeling filtering through his chest. Words and sentiment, however, argued within a dysfunctional mind. “I . . . feel awful. I . . . ran. Does that mean I . . . love Blaine? Gods . . . I think I’m going to be sick.”

Grabbing hold of his fear Jake leaned closer to the camera. Kurt looked drawn out and weak. “Remember, Blaine loves you.”

“Will it be enough?” Kurt sniffled.

The manner in which Kurt’s face changed caused the mechanic’s eyes to go to the hut in the background. He could not mistake the look in the fuzzy haired boy’s eyes whenever he saw him look at Kurt. A love Jake could not comprehend encompassed the two teens providing the mechanic with a settled sensation in the center of his chest. Jake knew the in the music room that first time he would defend Blaine as he did Kurt. In the past many months he had learned what family really meant.

Smiling, Jake’s left hand remained pressed against his chest as if it helped comfort him. He said in a soft voice. “Love can cure anything and you have lots it to share.”

“But . . . he looks awful . . .” Kurt sniffled. “I’ve never seen anything . . . Love isn’t . . . enough. He needs . . .”

The man in the monitor uncomfortably shifted. An emotional teen swayed this way and that making Jake more than a little concerned. “Love and faith can do wonderful things.”

A red, teary eyes gaze met Jake’s. For a second the teen saw the pain in his foster father’s eyes. Any doubt Kurt felt about Jake’s concern vanished. The manner in which the light flashing across his face made Jake’s eyes twinkle. For a second Kurt saw his father gazing at him. The shaky breath he drew in filled his lungs with warmth instead of dread. The sight send a spike through the tissues of his chest. He missed Burt. The man had been there for all the important milestones of his life. Unlike his mother who remained a faint image in his mind, Kurt had vivid memories of his father and the fun they had.

Kurt’s eyes became distant he had to wonder where the boy’s mind had gone. With hope he struck the right cord, Jake said, “Quail could never do anything to a harm Blaine. It’s against his . . .”

“But . . . they’re just . . .”Kurt cut the adult off. Emotion swept is again as he drew in a shaky breath.

Wrong, Jake realized. “Kurt, Blaine’s from a different world. They have different methods.”

“But . . .” Kurt’s voice squeaked

Scrambling to keep things from deteriorating again Jake partially admitted to a nagging secret. “I put an emergency call out to Owen and Hildebrandt.”

“What good will they do. We’re stuck in here.” The boy looked up with a sad face. Streaks of water stained his cheeks and his eyes looked swollen with all the crying. Walking up to the monitor, Kurt leaned forward placing his hands on the stone. A tear rolled down his left cheek and he muttered, “I should be there but I don’t know what to do . . . They scare me.”

The emotional tone of three words struck Jake right in the center of his chest. Yes, Kurt should be with the teen he, yes, loved. Likewise Jake should be with the teen he loved. Half an hour and he could be there but then the airlock doors could not be opened without the authorization of a senior medical officer. As maddening as it would be, he had to support Kurt while he waited for Sam to respond to his urgent summons.

Water leeched from Jake’s eyes. Choking back a sob, he said in a soft compassionate tone, “Kurt, if I could be there . . .”

“I know,” Kurt bowed his head and glanced back at the monitor.

“From what I’ve seen, Quail and Ning would do nothing to harm Blaine. You said he’s family to them.”

“Yes, but I . . . just . . . I feel so helpless and ashamed.”

“Kurt?”

“I ran.”

“Kurt you did what you felt you must.” Jake almost choked on the words.

Fear filled those wonderful blue eyes. “He’s covered in large red bumps.”

“Describe them in more detail,” another, deeper voice interrupted. The screen cut in half and Hildebrandt’s scruffy face appeared. Light flickered on the wall behind the scientist along with a few hooded screens. Standard medical equipment lay in a locked position against the wall to his right. Bright flickering played across his face from the left.

Jake cringed. He had lied to Kurt and did not like the sour taste it left in his mouth.

Both hands slapped loudly against the boy’s bare chest. Literally swallowed the air gushing into his lungs, pain flared in Kurt’s throat and across his ribs. On instinct Kurt’s hands went up to his head and he crouched down to protect the core of his body. Fear crushed whatever comfort Kurt tried to protect. Pushing his head down toward his chest the curl of his torso tightened. Trying to hold it all together, the numbness of his mind barely register the smell of the warm liquid tickling down his legs.

“Kurt. No one’s going to beat you up. He’s nowhere near you,” Jake almost gagged on the words as the sight of the surveillance coverage of Kurt’s beating came to mind. Finger nails dug through the thick fabric over Jake’s chest digging into his skin. “Love Kurt. Think of love.”

The boy did not move for a long moment and then his head rose ever so slightly. Glancing about, he lowly pulling himself up right, Kurt looked down at his crotch, his face scrunched up into an ugly mess. In low, gasping tone he muttered. “I . . . peed myself.”

Jake’s chin dropped as his eyes went wide. The depths of Kurt’s pain scared him. The boy wildly panted.

“Cup your hand tightly over your nose and breathe deeply,” Hildebrandt calmly instructed. “Slow, even breaths, Kurt.”

Glancing at his hands, Kurt made a face even as he struggled to draw air into his lungs. For the first time since it all started, he questioned what Blaine would do without him. The dear boy fawned over him and how could Kurt not find joy in all the attention. Every time their eyes met emotions and unspoken words passed between them telling a story much deeper than the life the now lived. Blaine’s heart pounded just as Kurt’s did—strong and searching. Now he lay there boiling from the inside out.

Gulping in a surge of air that barely made it down into his chest, Kurt’s hands cupped over his nose forming hollowed cup. Doing as Hildebrandt instructed, Kurt drew in a long thrust of air. After a few deep breaths he slowly stood. His throat moved as he swallowed hard and then drew in a deep loud of air. His nose rolled up at the smell of the liquid dripping down his leg and tried not to gag. Still, rebreathing his exhaust made him feel better.

The colour returning to Kurt’s normally pale face pleased Jake but on the other hand Hildebrandt’s gruff intervention irritated. Kurt needed calm sympathy at this moment not a heart attack. For Kurt’s sake he addressed the doctor in a polite tone, “Nice to see you too, doc.”

“Jake,” the doctor responded with a nonchalant air of disregard. Eagar eyes turned to Kurt. “You feeling better, son?”

Kurt lean against the stone to steady himself. He wished the piano bench had not been taken back into the hut along with the large instrument.

“If you feel faint, cover your mouth again and breathe deeply.” Hildebrandt’s face looked like it had been made out of stone. “Now, Kurt, I want you to tell me what our guest are doing?”

Kurt’s head snapped up and he threw his hands up. “Is that fuck’n important?!”

“No, it’s not,” Hildebrandt calmly suggested. He showed only clinical detachment.

The professor’s glare made Kurt felt completely naked. A hand involuntarily covered his moist manly bits. Violently shaking his head, Kurt turned away from the monitor and toward the hut. Shadows moved within green haze. The boy did not move.

Jake bend down so he looked directly into the camera. “Kurt, please look at me.”

Pain swept through the teen’s chest. Quail laid the dry heaving Blaine on the bed with all the tender care of a father with new born. All the while Kurt watched with a strange detachment as the rest of Blaine’s friend’s filtered in. In a few moments the spare space within the hut no longer existed. A’ra, studied the groaning human and then trotted off. A little while later the reptile returned with strips of cloth, water and something they forces Blaine to drink. It came up a few seconds later.

Standing there for a few long minutes, Kurt noted the crystal hanging down toward Blaine’s arm pit also glowed like all the others. Oddly, the sight gave Kurt courage. Walking over to the bed, the boy he adored looked terrible. With trembling knees he sympathetically sat on the edge of the bed and reached out for Blaine’s hand. Shaking fingers paused an inch away. Pain touched his heart but love pushed the fear he felt eased. Slowly he placed his hand on Blaine’s and the boy’s sweat soaked head turned. Shadowy hazel eyes flickered open into narrow slits. Darkened orbs stared up at Kurt first pleading and then a spark flared with those eyes. A right hand weakly squeezed Kurt’s left.

Hope touched Kurt’s heart and then Blaine’s hand abruptly pulled away as he moaned and thrashed about. Drawing back from the dear boy, tears streamed from Kurt’s eyes. From the door where Kurt had left him standing, Sega thumped over on those big stump like legs. Staring up and the huge monstrosity, Kurt’s eyes when wide with horror and then he wrapped his arms about the g’uri’s thick waist. He arms barely reached half way. The massive creature tenderly cradled the troubled human gently. Sobs soaked into the fabric covering the lower portion of his heavily muscled body.

Panic struck when, sometime later, Blaine let out an anguished yelp and threw up again making the most disgusting gurgling noise. Terrified, Kurt yanked himself from Sega’s soft grasp and ran from the hut. He looked back once and saw Quail leaning in toward Blaine. No one else moved.

“Kurt,” Hildebrandt pressed, his tone hard and commanding. “Tell me about the infliction?”

Blue eyes flickered and for a moment Kurt had no idea what to say. The memories dug into the Kurt’s uncertainties. To come all this way only to have it end now. The thought drew him into a dark place. Darkness swelled within the pit of his stomach creating a burning sensation in his chest. Echoing laughter tickled the back of his mind where the lingering images of a beating lay raw and waiting to take hold. Slowly his head and shoulders drooped.

“Don’t go there, Kurt.” Jake knew the boy too well and the look Kurt’s face dug into his chest like a sharp dagger. “I’m sure Blaine knows you’re with him.”

“But I’m out here.” Kurt moaned as glanced back at the hut. The same eerie green radiance filled the doorway. A tall dark spot cut through him as one of the creatures stepped out into the open. The tears blurring Kurt’s vision made it impossible for him to know who.

Hildebrandt’s eyes revealed the first hint of emotion—displeasure.

Jake found the doctor’s bedside manner disconcerting. Following orders rather than his heart may have been a mistake.

“You need to tell me everything, Kurt,” the doctor coolly instructed.

Now pushing sixteen, Kurt had no idea that the doctor wanted. Blaine’s longevity hung in the balance so Kurt squared his shoulder and looked to Jake. “I’ll try.”

Jake smiled to encourage the boy. His eyes however scowled at the doctor.

Scratching his chin, Hildebrandt asked, “What you can tell me might help?”

“Okay,” Kurt looked to the screen and sighed. “He felt so hot . . . well we both have been warm lately . . . it’s humid in here . . . I hate it . . . I don’t know . . . He even in the pond he felt hot.”

Hildebrandt scratched his chin. “Something in the water . . . hummm.”

“He threw up . . . I have never seen someone throw up so much . . . Quail held him against his chest so that Blaine faced . . . we ate their food . . . could that . . . no . . . maybe . . .” Kurt rambled and then his words came to a halt. Looking to Jake he sort of grinned. “I guess I have my puke story.”

The mechanic found Kurt’s attempt at humour heart lifting. Smiling back, Kurt needed the encouragement.

Hildebrandt’s nose twitched and then his eyes went to something to his right. Shards of light danced across the side of his face. “What did he throw up?”

The boy paled at the thought. If he had not been so worried he would have hurled himself. He hated the sight of contents of other people’s stomach. “Food . . . I guess. His friends eat a lot of fruit and vegetable like stuff with small portions of what Blaine calls meat. We drank the water and had what I guess was fruit juices.”

“We tested most of those during the journey. I wonder if . . .” the professor cut the boy off.

Kurt flinched as a drops of saline slice down the teen’s cheeks. “But then . . . blood.”

The face of Arc’s chief scientist became larger within the screen. “Blood?”

Biting his lip Kurt rubbed his hand under his wide eyes. “Yes.”

“Oh, my god?” Jake’s eyes flung open and his hand he held against the fabric covering his chest jumped ever so slightly but he did not let go. He should have listened to his gut.

Hildebrandt turned a quarter turn from the monitor and looked as if he typed something into a computer interface. The professor gazed directly into the screen with intense eyes. “Kurt, the more I know the better I will understand how I can help.”

Looking to Jake it the other half of the screen, Kurt sucked back the liquid building up in his nose. “He has big red welts all over him.”

Hildebrandt clinically asked. “How big?”

“Half an inch or more.”

“And.”

“He’s soaked.”

“Is it sweat like a hard workout or more?”

“How would I know?”

“Humm. Could you see his eyes?”

In his half of the screen Jake’s brow pulled together. Leaning forward his eyes narrowed and then asked Hildebrandt in a serious tone, “What game are you playing doctor?”

Shifting to face the screen, the professor hand went out to something out of view. In a low and controlled voice he replied, “I am only trying to determine how I can help our guest.”

“Doctor . . .” Jake cut himself off and looked to at the teen. “Kurt, look at your bracelet. What’s it doing?”

Kurt blinked and the looked down. Rows of previously noticeable lights flashed in uneven patterns along the thing encompassing his wrist. Lifting it to show Jake those lovely blue eyes went wide—two red welts rose on the underside of his forearm.


	33. Who I  . . . we . . .

Then perhaps yes. I am? It’s hard to know when everything whirls about within the grey-white puffs filled with strange phantoms. Interesting might describe it? No, maybe normal? Na, think of it as being turned insides out with the brain sort of hanging off to the right. Well, that might be it? A fragile mind . . . no . . . yes . . . minds . . . felt the heat rising with the mists and coating the body with a thin sheen. Things flow in and out of the tiny droplets representing a minute aspect of a short life. He . . . they . . . feel the same . . . sort of. Hot gushes and cold flashes complement the pains the mind barely recognized. Senseless fantasies corrupt sound and sensation into an unbelievably shattered meanderings of thought. What a bother but then this is not who I . . . we . . . I am . . . are . . . yes, we . . . but then perhaps?

This could not be happening? No . . . but then? A constantly moving jigsaw surrounded and molded as it played nasty games stretching the bounds of normal thought into something with no endings. Light and dark mixed with the absence of hue creating an ever changing mosaic. Natural laws had not strength in a place where the conscious mind took a back seat to naughty muses.

Cool breezes soothed the burning sensation but then nothing could stop the river. Beads rolled down the curves to sometimes fall away only to become absorbed by something else. Salty liquid bubbled up through the pores to puddle in the crevasses of the flesh. Sometimes the mind comprehended the irrational illness infesting the body . . . bodies . . . and would feel the chilliness dabbed on the head or some other place. Just when everything seemed right, it would flip upside down and sideways all at once. Uneasy currents took the conscious on a wild ride as the mind struggled with the condition of the body.

Hot and cold, wet and dry, trembling and still, the human form experienced it all. Reckless war swayed deep down in the pit of the stomach, within swelling lungs or careened through the veins creating a bevy of new experiences. Accompanied by a chorus of moans and groans the physical being exuded less respectable and messy things beside sweat. Slit eyes vaguely recognized faint green radiance playing on the edges of the gloom. The mind wailed as the physical form welcomed the strangely penetrating sensation.

The high pitched howl ricocheted within the mists where delirium contested for supremacy creating crescendos of meaningless aberrations. Notes and voice, notes and strings all accompanied by the banging of drums. Laughter and gaiety mixed and everything seems to line up like little soldiers waiting for orders. Then the sergeant’s shouts became a ferocious thunder clap lost within a boiling mass of condensed water. Rolling in from all sides it transformed into a sly, youthful face grinning with spiteful ambition.

A spark of discomfort spiked causing a loud growl to pass through the space between the ears. Eyes flickered and both involuntarily shifted away from a distant green twinkle. Fiction and non-fiction found a place to mix where all sorts of oddities came together and flew apart. Shades of light, colour and darkness danced about one another within the smog creating three distinct vestiges. One lay horizontally with his face only inches from what appeared to be long strands of black hair. Over this male figure hovered a beautiful and somewhat older female face consisting of mist and ever changing hues. Behind her, at distance, stood a disheveled young man with a worried look on hazy face. The abstract realm defied Newton’s Law.

Gusts of breath created vibrations which harmonize into strange oscillations. The deep toned word echoed through the avenues of a disjointed mind . . . minds . . . bringing aspects into focus. Soft hazel eyes looked up at darker brown. “Mom?”

“I’m here, my darling boy,” The wispy image of a mother leaned forward and kissed her son gently on the cheek just beneath the bandages wrapping his head.

“Thank god,” an excited, high pitched voice said in the background.

Bubbling rage overpowered the drugs caressing the blood. Weakly, hatefully, the injured young man demanded, “I don’t want him here.”

Conflicting senses tightened as a flicker of darkness flashed within the gentle veil of green. The oozing shape hovering just out of sight slithered along the edges staring hungrily at the handsome man with curly hair. Every so often this thing would transgress an invisible barrier where the effervescing haze became a translucent elongated young face with devilish eyes. Drifting this way and that, the slimy and corrosive apparition gleefully mocked the young man with stunning blue eyes. The tick and tock of a motion left a heavy sense of dread.

“But?” Young blue eyes revealed shocked pain.

“Just leave!” the injured man spat. He faded away into the mists as his head turned away leaving a trembling man behind.

Anger grasped on the space between the click of the clock and the juicy fear it found there. Delicious nuisance played within the avenues of malicious intent. Meandering through the folds of rolling mist it found a path toward a coveted objective. Coiling up the leg of what might be a chair it congealed into an insubstantial humanoid form. Oily malice adjusted its body so one foot rested ahead of the other.

Leaning back with one arm hanging off the back of his chair lips coiled up into a smirk before the coy figure asked, “Do we talk of the good old days?”

The purring of the words rolling off a forked tongue altered the surroundings into an ephemeral chamber with other tables and chairs. A young man with gelled curly hair sat on an angle holding a rectangular thing in his hand. “First, will you excuse me? I should text my stage manager telling him I’m going to be late.”

“By all means,” A pronged tongue lapped across thin lips consisting of flowing haze.

Hands moved under the table where they found a faint green glow. Head tilted down, the shorter of the two stated, “Life is full of all sorts for surprises. I would never have guessed I would have run into you.”

“It’s a small world.”

“You’re here on business?”

“Fact finding. I have a huge case that involved corporations up here. They sent me up to chat and look into various laws.”

“Sound exciting.”

“I’m enjoying myself.” Slick mist rolled up a leg under the table at the same moment a tongue flicked as if seeking an enticing scent. “I’m at a hotel a couple of blocks away around the corner.”

The foot pressing against a calf felt like a cloven hoof. A chill to pass through the boiling vapours. Puff, the foul stench of decay faded leaving a small black box with a lit area filled with words and symbols.

Sent: Bumped into—the name is scrambled—nothing’s changed. Usual place. Hurry. ♥♥♥

Reply: Bastard. ☺☺☺

A sudden burst of passion pushed into a slightly heaving chest and for a second the obscurity of his plight parted and a hand shifted. Groping for an anchor, a small finger rubbed up against a digit belonging to someone significant. In an instant the heart grew in bounds surpassing the putrid sensations swelling through his body. For a fleeting moment the mind comprehended the importance of right in left.

Hope flashed between two kindred spirits before the drama inflicting them decommissioned the conscious mind. Fleeting thought and heightened romanticism plunged into a scattered existence which defied reasonable description. Pheromones detonated flying into cells and emotions drawing two souls physically and spiritually closer. Wrapping around each other in a dance of intimacy it pulled at two harried forms as if a breeze pushed a door open just a shade.

The brief seconds of mindfulness spiraled into happiness which blossomed over and over again until a dark shadow passed through the revolving mists. Both teens visualized a dark humanoid shape invaded the softer green surrounding them. Suddenly a single source of brightness flashed bright blue and two agitated teens sensed a distinct draw. Something icky pulled back from the new colour leaving a mishmash of constantly changing sensations.

Muscles jumped when fluctuating hues surrounded a fragile body. Raining down from afar it interacted with the green radiance creating a sparkling concoction. For a brief fragment of time two souls felt freedom and a loving embrace. Something rolled over the dampness of heated skin followed by a cooling touch of something rough. The odd feeling opened the mists just enough to provide a sense of more. From the other side three points of shimmering blue stared at them. A large point of bright blueness rested lower than the other two which took on an appearance of eyes. The sight lifted the youths leaving the soul with a sense of ‘oh my god’ and the body more able to defend itself.

Ambient waves lapped at the shores of two lives pushing them together before circumstance drew heavy drapes across the opening blocking the sun. The vague transition forced the consciousness to look beyond self-absorbing droplets to something greater than the self. The whirling paradigm of mental processes argued with the imponderables of their situation. Some aspect of the person . . . persons . . . had become engrossed in the complexities of circumstance to happenchance. Laughter echoed in the back of the brain. There could be nothing harder and more satisfying than cheating the ego.

Ego? What a wonderful concept to struggle with. Conjoined fingers prevented the connexion between two souls from being unraveled. Subtle and blatant characteristics of hallucination yelled and screamed. No, it could not be? Yes, it could. The modification of perception tricked the part of the mind seeking a fool’s reprieve. Sure horror had given away to eerie sensation of floating mingled with an awful, acid taste in the back of the throat. Bubbling manifestations presented a wonderful place to hide but then, pretending helped no one. A portion of the will retained enough strength to sidestep the lofty tricks of a traumatic sense of self.

Movement? Yes, movement. Nice and even comforting movement. The part of the mind which remained above the waves did its job. It liked being the mouthpiece of youthful tomfoolery. Why should it not? Other pieces of multidimensional puzzle became lost in the melodrama of a body which had no control of the contents of its stomach. Something realized things could be going too far. After all the brain controlled the body. Well, fooled yeah. The mind had little to do with the dilemma. The thrashing of the physical form exalted the body’s automatic desire to fight a valiant fight.

Flesh twitched against flesh. Oh boy, the consciousness cheered while that other part scowled. Motor skills allow the eyes to flicker bringing a hint of grassy hued brightness. Simultaneously the holes in the side of his head registered something called sound though it seemed more like a low hum through mounds of cotton batten. Still it became enough for the disparity of stretched thoughts to create a delicious whimper. Something happened disease and sickness loathed—antibodies. Damn!

The dull luminance beyond the eyelashes allowed for the recognition of motion. Something large passed over head. Well, it looked large from this angle. Coolness touched the body again and it felt good. It dribbled down from above and then something smeared it along sore muscles. Body heat diminished even though torments of unwanted infection tried to hang on. Vague recollections flashed. Arms lowered him onto something which gave away underneath him to a certain degree. Chanting, yes, he recognized it along with other thing things. One sent his heart pounding against pained ribs where it settled into agonizing unease.

Dysfunctional restlessness dissolved into warm longing even though the augment racking the body lingered. Dizziness dwarfed the mind. The manner in which it evolved seemed strangely disjointed as if the mind viewed the opinions of another. Wonderful soothing warmth spread through the chest competing with the boiling heat of an ailing body. Peace engulfed a . . . no two . . . numbed brains allowing both to feel the familiarity of amorous hearts. All earthly problems faded. Time, existence, the feelings of life meant little. Blessed stagnation held and all worries washed away in the odd sense of being. It seemed to last for a fool’s eternity.

For a split second the man with unkempt curly hair learned of the agony raking two bodies. Within the wandering mists floating on the edges of consciousness, memory a linked mind saw things. Two men wearing calf height pants with socks pulled up to almost the knee lay on a hill side by side looking up at the clouds holding hands. One of the large fluffy mounds transformed itself into a man in shining armour sitting upon a horse draped in colour. His eyes searched the audience where a young, pale skinned noble smiled. Hazel held onto blue and the colours mixed and renewed. Two peasants worked a field under the hot sun. Lost in the distance of time a couple swam in the fertile waters of the mighty Nile.

A strangely connected cognizance drifted until some part their bodies registered a loving tickle. Invoking deep feelings of warmth and tenderness souls lifted only to be dashed by a wicked mischief. Terror, anger, lose and betrayal echoed within the heart. Agony struck and then that sudden sinking feeling crept into the waking minds. Two young men sat at table. One tried to hold back tears as the other stated the wedding would never happened. A tangle of disparate emotions gathered followed by motion. Vanquished desire and hope swirled away into the unbelievable. Life crumbled. Schooling crumbled. A flickering flame twisted in an uncertain breath.

Laughter echoed within muffled ears. A sick boy recognized the mocking tone of his chubby tormentor while the other the playful and often stinging rebuke of an older sibling. One feared to walk around a corner just in case angry spit or a fist crashed into his face. The wicked smile of a taller teen picking on his younger brother stretched the mists revealing a sinister grin lingering just out of view. Internal thermometers reacted. The boiling heat forced upon the body by sickness twisted thought merging the tormentor and sibling and then ripped them apart again. Each shift mirrored the physical sensation of how the human form reacting to the impurities within the veins. Someone chuckled.

Dim warbling, birdlike twitting forced the darkened mist into a twisted smirk. One teen tensed and the other felt the blood boil with jealousy. Dread touched two hearts as a threat formed in the back of their heads. Tall and lean, the person stood between them as if challenging. Malice drooled at one of them while seeking an advantage with which to achieve a brazen theft. Slithering about the shorter man leaving an oil slick in its wake where desire wished the fearful lover would slip. It ended with a splash of red in the face and an anguished scream.

The pain of suffering doubled for two embattled individuals. For one it had a physical edge and for other emotions wailed for vengeance. Somewhere within the quagmire of confusion the inner workings of the body received a gentle caress. Titillating affection drew two souls toward one another as if dancers swirled closer on a large stage occupied by only themselves. Feet carried them while hands reached out in anticipation. The instance of intimacy healed physical scars and settled the emotional clashing of two very different wills. The connection between blue and hazel endured as one placed both their hands over the other’s heart.

A scent pressed in upon them and tender emotion swelled. Someone lay in a bed with a battered face. A hand stroked a hand while other voices rose within concern and worry. Love lay there all so beautiful, young and innocent. A finger traced a line across one cut causing the heart to weep. He should have been there to defend and help. Guilt rode within a heaving chest as a voice rose in song. The body lifted and then came to rest on the side of the bed. Curling up, a head came to rest beside the man he loved. Dreams and reality became lost in a tear.

For a time, everything about them sounded like rain drumming on a barrel from the inside. In their present state, mind, body and spirit clashed but an odd sensation held it all together—everlasting love pulsating in separate wombs. Warmth imbued them as they swayed ever so gently with the motions of their mothers. The touch, the kindness and the manner in which the women cared brought timeless recognition of something larger. Shadow and light played off one another as if leaves fluttered in a gentle breeze on a warm spring day.

A bright green leaf spiraled overhead drawing hazel and blue to it in an abstract fashion logic must dispute. Eerie green mists grew up out of the radiance filling the chamber the physical body lay in. The thin connection of flesh lightly pressing against flesh flared conveying a blaze of a vision from a deep past. The motion of walking transected the intense sun creating a dull spot where someone had suddenly stopped. The vision of the boy in a dark blue blazer with red trim fluctuated within the inconsistency of reality, time and the machinations of the mind. The down cast teen sat alone amongst the flower beds on a bench. An open book rested on his lap. He leaned forward with his fists pressed into his chin. The heart wept. The two boys had met under strenuous circumstances.

Quietly stepping closer, the young soloist said in a soft voice, “Kurt.”

The new kid turned on the bench and glanced back. He sort of smiled followed by a quiet name said with surprise, “Blaine?”

“Can I join you?”

“I guess it would be okay.”

Blaine walked around the flower beds sitting himself at the end of the bench. “Are you alright, Kurt?”

The other boy closed his book putting it down on his shoulder bag. Drawing in a deep breath, Kurt pulled one leg up as a turned to face Blaine. Kurt’s eyes looked red. “I don’t know.”

“It’s been hard on you.”

“I’ll get over it.”

“I’m here for you, Kurt.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“I would like to think we’re friends.”

“Are we, Kurt?”

“Yes.”

In two realties Blaine’s heart jumped. Within a realm of karmic memory the same boy stated, “We’ve been friends since the first day we met, Kurt.”

Frozen, Kurt’s chin quivered. Elsewhere a finger twitched against warm sweaty skin.

Something about the way Kurt held himself mesmerized Blaine. He watched the way the other boy’s chest rose and fall or the flick of the ear or the manner in which one of those long, luscious eyelashes fluttered. Emotions rose close on the surface. Blaine saw a juicy enigma.

Suddenly embarrassed, Blaine’s eyes cycled down to the palm of his right hand. In a deep but quiet tone he said, “Kurt, listen to me. In our own way we have both been through the ringer. I told you I ran to Dalton. There is some truth in that. Bullying had a lot to do with it. Family issues played a bigger roll. It has not been all fun, Kurt. However, since coming here I have found peace regardless of the assholes. We Warblers look out for one another. They looked out for me.”

“It’s good to have friends.” Kurt looked down.

“You miss yours,” Blaine edged closer along the bench.

Kurt held his breath. His eyes looked suddenly distant. “Glee club saved me. I considered…well…it is done now. ”

“Kurt?”

“Blaine, it’s alright. I’m past that. My sophomore year was utter hell. The councilor called my dad. I saw the fear in his eyes and the pain of not knowing what to do.”

Blaine said nothing.

Sucking in air, Kurt said, “He wanted me to join a club. He would have preferred football. I ended up in glee.”

“And I’m so happy you did.”

“So am I.”

The smile that lit up Kurt’s face resonated upon Blaine like so many memories causing the leaves to rustle. Both teens looked up and the tree over their heads seemed to blot out all light. Huge bows fanned out into the darkness where each leave became a point of sparkling light within the cosmos. A single star became a cluster of stars forming galaxies which transformed into a vast collection galaxies moving within the essence of the universe.

“They almost found the key.” A quiet female voice drifted within a strained moan emanating from a sickly child.

A boy with sweat matted curly hair uncomfortably rolled his shoulders to one side. A slick forehead came to rest up on something both soft and firm. The body twitched and snuggled closer until the nose caught a familiar scent masked by sweat. Laying his head down upon flesh, a sense of home captured the soul.

Suspended on the edge of the spirit and the carnal caring thought sympathetically caressed the miserable teens. A stunning woman whispered, “He looked so handsome.”

“Do not think of that.” Something moved closer to the point of reality as if to comfort. Time slowed allowing the inconsistent male form to find a sense of stability. “We’ve been through this before and you how it feels each time.”

“It’s painful.” the female form shifted.

“Overly.” The altering form of a man’s head bowed down. “Try not to think of it but then it comes to this.”

“It was easier last time. Just look at them. So sweet. So adorable. How could you not want to hold them?”

“They’re doing what they are supposed to do.”

“Just like a man.”

“I love them as much as you do but the dice have been cast.”

“It’s never been this bad.”

“We knew the risk, Pam.”

“You felt the pull.”

“Yes, and it is much stronger than before.”

“Do you think?”

“We no longer have a choice?”

“I cannot keep doing this, Burt.”

The edge of the green radiance produced by several flickering crystals darkened in one spot as if a shadow crossed over. The male figure with a shiny head knelt beside Kurt and his chest moved as if sighing.

Long strands of darkness fell toward the boy with the sweaty curly hair. Kneeling beside Blaine she leaned forward as if to kiss his head and the shadowlike shape glanced up at the aliens standing around the boys. Time moved at a snail’s pace.

An insubstantial hand passed just above a sweaty forehead. A woman’s voice softly said, “He’s finding his strength.”

Passing through the bed without touching the boys, Burt’s transitory life force approached the one of the tall skinny creatures. Looking it up and down, Burt nodded. “This one has done well.”

“Yes.” Pam’s wispy figure floated around to stand next to Burt. Dark eye gazed up at the tall form and then she smiled. “He’s been a good teacher.”

Looking to Pam, Burt said, “The Taint almost had them.”

“Do you think it will hold long enough to get them to safety?”

“He’s made his move and the trap has been sealed?”

“Then it is done. Your brother has a hard task to complete and I do not know if our darlings are ready.”

“There is no going back, now. They have better be ready.”

The female force paused. For a brief second Pam’s form penetrated reality.

“Careful,” Burt warned. He pulled her back but his hand passed through her.

“Yes, yes.” Pam sounded annoyed. “I know we did our bit and cannot directly interfere anymore, but . . .”

“They almost had it.”

“But the truth still eludes them.”

“One is close.”

“The other is not.”

“Together they almost found the thread.”

“Do they have to be in this state?”

“Only time will tell.”

The woman drifted through a massive muscular body to hover over the bed. Gazing at a sweaty, unshaven face Pam pulled in her lower lip. The essence of emotion welled up about her creating a slight sparkling in her chest.

Sliding up beside her, Burt placed a hand on her short-lived form. “We knew when this all started it would have to be this way.”

“Yes, short and sweet.”

“Lay the foundation over and over again.”

“They will need their allies?”

“They proved strong the last time.”

“Perhaps they have the will to push further.”

“Then we must.”

“Agreed.”

The faint luminosity of a physical form seemed to fold in upon itself as he turned back to the two boys suffering on the bed. Staring at Kurt’s wholesome face Burt sighed. “If my brother fails.”

“Damaen knows there will be no new beginning.”

“Only stagnation and demise.”

“We were chosen to finding the hidden path.”

“And where did all that experimentation get us.”

“What else could we do? Damaen needed to seal the trap and now that it is done, our time is all but gone.”

Grimly looking down at the child who she had given birth to for many cycles, Pam knelt. A transitional hand reached for the coils of hair and pulled back. “His love is strong.”

Burt nodded. “Things got out of hand with Kurt.”

“I had more time.”

“The lie will not hold.”

“They will discover it for themselves.”

“I know.”

“We need to go.”

“Yes, but we can do one thing to even the playing field before the root pulls us.”

Gravely nodding Pam’s ethereal form shifted toward one of the tall creatures. “This one can achieve it.”

“Excellent.” Burt nodded.

Two spectral entities drifted over toward a skeleton like form. Together they placed their right hand on the crystal on his boney chest and bowed their heads. A surge pressed into the shimmering stone and the cosmos lurched giving time a kick start.

Blaine gasped and his eyes flickered open. Fear gripped the heart followed by abrupt calm. Faint recognition flashed within a lucid longing heart. Dark lashes winked back stinging sweat but Blaine barely mustered a fond smile.

The boy next door stirred and found a head pressed in against his chest just above the stomach. Coils of sticky hair tickled with the rising and falling of his chest. Each inhale drew a familiar hint of peace mixed with the odours of neglected hygiene. A single finger wrapped round the pinky of his left hand. Rolling his arm took effort and when all his fingers found their place—left in right—they both felt safe.

Blaine strained as he slid up the bed so he head rested on shoulder. The effort took all his strength but in the end it had been worth it. Hazel locked on blue and their hearts understood. Humming did not come easy with a dry throat but Blaine produced a strangled sound. The green radiance shuddered and distant singing broke shattered the fog. A single enduring voice echoed out of the past accompanied by a chorus which seemed to come from green radiance surrounding the two boys.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wa532g6PwqY)

_I walked across an empty land_   
_I knew the pathway like the back of my hand_   
_I felt the earth beneath my feet_   
_Sat by the river and it made me complete_

_Oh, simple thing where have you gone_   
_I'm getting old and I need something to rely on_   
_So tell me when you're gonna let me in_   
_I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin_

_I came across a fallen tree_   
_I felt the branches of it looking at me_   
_Is this the place we used to love_   
_Is this the place that I've been dreaming of_

_Oh, simple thing where have you gone_   
_I'm getting old and I need something to rely on_   
_So tell me when you're gonna let me in_   
_I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin_

_And if you have a minute why don't we go_   
_Talk about it somewhere only we know?_   
_This could be the end of everything_   
_So why don't we go_   
_Somewhere only we know?_   
_Somewhere only we know?_

_Somewhere only we know_

_And if you have a minute why don't we go_   
_Talk about it somewhere only we know?_   
_This could be the end of everything_   
_So why don't we go_   
_So why don't we go_

_And if you have a minute why don't we go (Ooo! Ah-ah!)_   
_Talk about it somewhere only we know? (Ha! Ah, ah, ow!)_

_This could be the end of everything_   
_So why don't we go_   
_Somewhere only we know?_

_Somewhere only we know?_   
_Somewhere only we know?_

Two souls coiled about each other and one whispered to the other, “I’m never saying goodbye to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here end Part One of this story. Please stay tuned for more.


End file.
